You could be happy
by Felix Felicius
Summary: It's a wonderful life, or is it? Left alone over Thanksgiving break, Sam gets disturbing dreams of what his family would have been like had he not been born... Amnesia!Sam, sick!Dean, and remorseful!John. Full summary inside.
1. Chapter 1 Walking on broken glass

**Summary: **_**It's a wonderful life**_**, or is it? Left alone over Thanksgiving break, Sam gets disturbing dreams of what his family would have been like had he not been born...throw in a snow storm, a hunt gone wrong, sickness, a drunk driver, and the yellow eyed demon, and you have a pretty messed up family. Amnesia!Sam, sick!Dean, and remorseful!John.**

**Sam: 17**

**Dean: 21**

**John: 46**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**Walking on broken glass**

_Tension is building inside steadily  
Everyone feel so far away from me  
Heavy thoughts forcing their way  
Out of me…_

_From the inside, Linkin Park_

**November 25th, 2000**

He walked slowly, kicking a small rock ahead of him listlessly. He was alone today and that was something unusual for Sam Winchester. Normally, his older brother Dean would be waiting for him outside the school in his beloved Impala and would drive them back to wherever they were staying.

Not today.

The walk itself wasn't too long; just about a mile. He didn't mind. Goodness knows his dad wouldn't be angry about it. He always seemed to feel that Dean was coddling him too much. It was Dean's over protectiveness that his dad always blamed for Sam's weaknesses, his inability to take care of himself, and his lack of passion for the hunt.

What he did mind though, was Dean's distant behavior as of late. He wasn't some needy toddler by any means, but he still needed the assurance and comfort that only Dean could give him. For the past few weeks all that Dean had given him was the cold shoulder.

He gave the rock a hard kick. It went into the street.

Sam sighed and walked on. the sky was getting dark and cloudy. The setting sun was barely peaking out from behind the clouds. A snow storm was on its way; the first snow of the season.

Up ahead was Main Street. Instead of walking toward it as he normally did, he turned off onto a smaller street and headed toward a small super market.

Gene's Harvest Foods greeted him warmly as the doors opened, hitting him with an onslaught of heated air.

With thanksgiving only a day away, the store was as crowded as it ever got in this small town. Sam grabbed a cart, threw his school bag in, and headed off to the deli. While his family wasn't on the best of terms right now, he hoped that they could still have some semblance of a Thanksgiving. He hoped it would help to get them talking again. It was his form of a peace offering.

He looked at the small assortment of rotisserie chickens on display and picked the largest one he could find. a package of rolls and some potato salad were next on his mental check list. They still had some soda left over so the drinks were covered. On his way to the checkout stands, he passed a pie display. Dean would love that. Pie was one his favorite things in the world. He added that to his cart.

Using money he had been saving up from the few odd jobs he had been able to do while in town, he paid for his purchases. He then took out all his school books and put the food in his backpack. He wanted to surprise his family. Grabbing extra plastic bags, Sam put his textbooks in them; he didn't want them getting wet if the weather got worse outside. His task complete, he stepped back out into the bitter cold.

Around him he could feel the anticipation from the people as they rushed to their cars, eager to get home and start their holiday preparations. He sighed as he thought of these happy families and the life he could have had, had things been different for his family. He turned onto Main Street. As he walked on, his thoughts turned back to the most recent cause of his family's discord.

Ever since he had told his small family about his applications to college they had been more argumentative toward him than usual. They took his actions as a personal insult to the way they lived their lives. Sam had lost count of how many times his dad had taunted him about being too good for a hunter's life.

He had expected this. But no matter how much he had prepared himself for it, it still hurt. The heated exchanges, the cold stares, the indifference; any normal person would break under the onslaught, but not him; not Sam.

He still held strongly to the belief that while it may not happen anytime soon, their anger would pass and they would come to accept his decision. He held to the hope that they were just expressing their hurt in the only way they knew how, by pushing him away before he inevitably left them.

The frosty chill in the air caused him to shiver. He pulled his coat tighter around his body and held his textbooks closer to his chest. His breaths turned into small clouds before fading into nothingness. He quickened his pace. He was not far from his destination.

Up above, the heavy clouds finally blocked out the setting sun.

Soon his family would be leaving this town. They never stayed in one place too long. The life of a hunter was one of constant upheaval. He was just grateful that he would be able to finish out the semester here. He liked his teachers, and his fellow students were kind to him; even if he always refused their offers to hang out.

The motel was only a few blocks away now.

They had been brought to the small town of Omak, located in north central Washington, by reports of several grisly murders that couldn't be explained by traditional methods. The deaths had taken in a remote area miles away, but this was where the closest school was; so they had moved here while Dean and dad investigated.

They were getting close to finding the source of the deaths. Within the week Sam predicted his dad would be leaving them to fish out the killer and restore this place to the peaceful, uneventful town it was at heart.

He didn't mind his dad's absence as much as he used to. He had grown to accept that this was the way his dad was and that hoping for more would get him no where except on his dad's bad side. He was there more than enough and he really didn't care to press the matter anymore.

At least he would have Dean, no matter how angry his brother was with him right now. He always stayed back on hunts when dad didn't want Sam along because of the danger level of the hunt or when Sam had school. Hopefully a good meal would help in getting them back on track with each other. He had to hope it would. He knew he wouldn't be able to last in this family without Dean's support. Without his brother, he and Dad probably would have killed each other long ago.

He crossed the road.

Up ahead, the bright red letters of _Motel Nicolas_ greeted him. He walked past the front office on his way to the set of rooms that lined the back parking lot. Their room was at the end of the row.

The first drops of ice cold rain started to fall as he pulled out the keys to the room from his pocket. But loud voices made him pause mid reach. Dean and Dad were arguing. He could hear their voices through the thin walls clearly.

"I'm coming with you!" he heard Dean shout.

"You're staying here with Sammy!" Dad shot back.

_Where was dad going?_ Sam thought.

"What could possibly happen to him here?! This place is practically a ghost town!" Dean reasoned.

"Don't argue with me!" dad threatened.

There was silence. Then...

"I can't stay here dad," Dean said suddenly. "I need a break."

"A break?" dad said irrediculously, "From what?"

Sam's hand was still on its way toward the door handle as he waited for Dean's answer.

"Sam."

"He's your brother Dean-"

"He's your son."

Sam's mouth dropped open at the words he heard. It was as if they were throwing him back and forth between each other, both not wanting to claim him as a family member.

"Admit it dad," Dean said. "You can't take it either, that's why you're so eager to leave, and right before Thanksgiving no less."

Sam let his hand drop. Was dad meaning to leave them for good? There was a pause before their dad responded.

"What sort of Thanksgiving were you expecting?" he asked. "It's a pipe dream, nothing more Dean. This family is falling apart."

Sam waited and hoped for some sort of defense from Dean.

"You really think that?" Dean stated.

"We're just too different," dad said. "You and me, we're a team, but Sam…"

Sam held his breath. Up above him, the icy rain had turned into snow.

"I know," Dean said.

_I know? What was that supposed to mean? _Sam thought.

"Please don't leave me here," Dean pleaded.

Sam cringed. Dean never begged for anything.

"I have to make sure he's safe Dean, even if he doesn't care about what we do for him, at least until he's eighteen, then he's free to risk his own life for all I care."

Sam took in a harsh breath. So now he was just being taken care of by a sense of obligation?

"Screw you," Dean said.

Sam eyes went wide as the door was thrown open in front of him and his brother passed by him roughly, pushing him into the door frame on his way out.

"Dean I-"

"Save it Sammy," Dean said shaking his head as he went over to his car.

Sam watched him, hurt filling his very soul. Before he could let the tears fall he turned back to the room and walked in.

His dad was bent over his duffel bag, loading it with weapons. He didn't notice Sam standing there.

"You're leaving?" Sam asked, pushing his hurt feelings away for the moment. "Now?"

The door was still open behind him.

His dad's face snapped up.

"You want more people to die?"

"But the weather-"

"Won't stop it," his countered. "Neither will it stop me."

Sam was at a loss for words.

"You said it would be at least a week or more before you-"

"Sam, I don't want to hear it," his dad said agitatedly. "You cause enough trouble for this family."

He zipped his duffel up, straightened up, then threw the bag over his shoulder. He looked around himself until he spotted what he was looking for. Reaching down, he grabbed Dean's bag with his other hand.

"You're taking Dean with you?" Sam asked.

His dad didn't even look at him when he replied.

"It's about time he got a life of his own, away from you."

"But earlier-"

"I changed my mind."

Sam just stood there, the cold wind blowing in behind him through the open door.

"When will you be back?" he asked in a small voice.

"However long it takes," his dad roughly replied.

Too hurt to care anymore, Sam stood his ground as his dad walked up to go around him and out the door.

"Move Sam," his dad said sternly.

"Are you doing this to punish me?" he asked boldly.

His dad shut his eyes, his face growing red.

"Everything's about you; is that what you think?!" he shouted out angrily. His face was mere inches from Sam's.

He shrank back at having his father's anger directed at him so closely.

"No, I-"

His dad moved forward, forcing his anger on Sam.

"It never crossed your mind what it would do to me and Dean did it? You applying for college?" he huffed. "Why do you need all that education, a normal life?" His voice became quieter in a rare show of emotion. "Aren't we enough?"

Sam couldn't speak. His voice was tight as he fought for the words to come out. He had hoped they would be able to talk, but not like this.

The voice that came out next was only a whisper.

"I just want more than this," he said.

His dad rebalanced the bag on his shoulder.

"Can't I have both?" Sam pleaded quietly.

"Move," His dad ordered.

Sam finally backed down and moved out his father's way, letting him pass.

"You take care of yourself Sammy," his dad said tonelessly, not even turning around to face him. "It seems to be all you're capable of."

Sam looked on brokenly, struggling to keep hold of his own emotions, as his dad continued on and walked out of the open door slamming it shut behind him.

Sam let his backpack fall to the ground behind him and threw his books onto the bed. He rushed over to the window and peered through the shades. He was surprised to see Dean getting up from the curb. He hadn't gone far at all. A light dusting of snow covered him.

His dad motioned for Dean to get in the truck. Taking his bag from their dad, Dean looked back toward the motel room and for a moment, though Sam didn't think Dean knew it, their eyes connected. Sam couldn't handle the emotions flashing in his brother's eyes and looked away. By the time he composed himself enough to look back, the pair was already in the truck and backing away, the loud roar of the trucks mighty engines filling the air.

He sighed heavily as he turned away from the window and took in the now empty motel room. Why couldn't they understand? He wasn't like them. This wasn't the life he dreamed of. He loved his family more than they would ever know, but he couldn't go on with this life much longer. It was eating away at him. Gnawing at what innocence he had left, turning him into a cynic. He didn't want to go through life that way.

He needed to know that there was something that he was fighting for, other than revenge for his dead mother who, while he loved dearly and missed deeply, he had never truly known. He didn't want to live with the fear that the next hunt might be his last or his father's or brother's last. How long was he expected…how long were they all going to live this way?

When would it end?

Sam turned off the lights and went back to the furthermost bed from the window. He ignored his backpack and the books strewn all over the other bed. Lying on top off the covers, he curled up and turned toward the window, gazing at the cloudy sky in the fading light.

He laid this way until the sky was dark and the only light coming through the shades was the dim glow of an old street light. He didn't change his clothes and ignored the hunger he felt. His mind was working overtime analyzing everything that had gone wrong between him and his family in the past few weeks.

His thoughts eventually came to what time of the year it was. Ever since he could remember, Thanksgiving and Christmas had been rife with disappointment and unfulfilled expectations. This time of the year seemed to highlight everything that was wrong with their family and bring it up for discussion. It was not an equation for the fluffy happy holidays that Sam had always dreamed of before he had given up on the idea entirely. He closed his eyes willing sleep to come and take him away from it all, if only for a few hours.

Before long he slipped into an uneasy sleep.


	2. Chapter 2 All I wanted

**Chapter 2**

**All I wanted**

_Sometimes, the last thing you want comes in first,__  
__Sometimes, the first thing you want never comes,__  
__And I know, the waiting is all you can do,__  
__Sometimes..._

_Strange and beautiful, Aqualung_

* * *

**November 26th, 2000 – Thanksgiving Day**

Sam woke up shivering still on top of his covers in his clothes from yesterday. He stretched out from the ball he had become in his effort to unconsciously warm up. Wincing at the soreness he felt, he sat up and rubbed his face. Judging from the chill in the air, the heater had probably gone out sometime in the night. He stood up and went over to the thermostat and fiddled with it until he could fell that it was working again, before returning to the bed and climbing under the blankets.

It was Thanksgiving. As he looked toward the window all he could see was white. It was the first major snowstorm of the winter.

Somewhere out in that storm were Dean and dad. He hoped they were ok. Calling them would get nowhere. Dad never had his cell phone on when it really counted and Sam could see Dean's phone next to the lamp on the night stand. It wasn't very often that Dean forgot his phone, wanting to always have an avenue of communication between them. Dean forgetting his phone just didn't happen.

No. Matter. What.

It was another testament to how strained their relationship was at the moment.

The room was eerily silent. Outside the wind howled. Sam frowned. He had never felt so alone and restricted in his life before. Even in the most trying of times, through disagreements, misunderstandings, and other mishaps, Sam always could hold onto the knowledge that his family's anger would pass and that the morning would dawn as if nothing had happened between them.

Dean and dad avoided chick flick moments whenever possible. If they could get around one by simply ignoring the problem, then that's what they would do. It was just how they worked.

If a chick flick moment was inevitable however, such as when 'sensitive' Sam was involved, then that was when things got nasty. As proven yesterday, when forced into a corner, his dad had lashed back viciously, his anger overpowering all sense of emotional control.

What had he expected? Throwing his heart out on the line had only got it mauled in the end. Asking for understanding had only shut the door more firmly between him and his father. After yesterday, he felt even more that he was being forced to choose between his family and the life he dreamed of. Why did it have to be exclusive?

He tossed off his covers. He had to do something else or he would drown in his lonely thoughts. As the chill in the air caused him to shiver, Sam bent down beside his bed and pulled out his own duffle. He rummaged through it until he found a sweater. He quickly pulled it on and then grabbed his over coat, pulling it on as well.

The silence and stillness of the room was getting to him. He went to the TV and turned it on to the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade. The noise and movement calmed him somewhat. He turned back and surveyed the room.

He sighed and walked over to the other bed and started gathering up his books. He stacked them on the nightstand and then went over to retrieve his abandoned backpack.

It was with a heavy heart that he pulled the food out of the bag. It was long cold by now. His stomach reminded him of its existence quite pointedly as Sam began to lay out the various foods on his bed. He then went a grabbed a plate and fork and served himself the loneliest thanksgiving meal he had ever had.

At the end of his meal, the pie was left untouched. It reminded him too much of Dean and the pain that lay there.

He looked at the TV. The Rockettes were doing their thing, kicking their legs toward the sky to the beat of a cheery Christmas jingle. Sam looked away; Dean would have been glued to the screen. Maybe the TV wasn't such a good idea. He went and turned it off.

The silence returned with vengeance. Sam gulped. He hated being alone. He quickly cleaned up his meal and put everything in the small fridge. Then he went back to his bed and tucked himself under the warm covers. Sleep was all he could think of doing.

Oh how he wished this day would just end already.

But even more, he wished that his family would come back soon so that he could have the chance to make things right again.

* * *

The winds were getting stronger as John and Dean trudged their way through the deepening snow. They were in the Okanogan national forest. Last night, John and Dean had talked to the local people of Conconully about the latest missing person.

Taking the list he had compiled of all the missing people, he and Dean had been able to cross reference it with the confirmed deaths. His efforts had revealed that two people were still missing, including the one from Conconully, no bodies found.

This morning they had found one of the two still missing people frozen just outside of Conconully on the borders of the forest. The body had been ravaged almost beyond recognition like the others. It looked like something or someone was eating these people.

Beside him Dean sneezed. John was sure he was coming down with something. He almost wished he had stuck to his guns and left Dean back with Sammy, but it was too late for wishing. They just had to finish this as soon as possible and then go back to Omak and recoup.

He hoped Sammy would be ok when they got back. He knew he had said some harsh things to his son when he had left, but he needed to say those words. The boy had to learn how to suck it up and deal with it if he was hoping to ever live on his own like he seemed so determined to do.

Man that boy was stubborn.

He trudged on. They were getting closer, he could feel it. If all went well maybe they could even be sleeping in their beds back in Omak tonight.

Maybe.

But then again, that bad Winchester luck had a knack for showing up when you least expected.

Beside him Dean started coughing.


	3. Chapter 3 The shape of things to come

**Chapter 3**

**The shape of things to come**

_Was it something I did?__  
__Was it something you said?__  
__Don't leave me hanging__  
__In a city so dead__  
__Held up so high__  
__On such a breakable thread…_

_My happy ending, Avril Lavigne_

* * *

**November 27th, 2000**

The day after thanksgiving was a dark gray flurry of snow. The clouds were pressing in making the sky seem much closer than it really was. Turning from the window, Sam focused back on the TV. The weatherman had just come on.

"_Temperatures will be dropping even further tonight as the storm moves across north central Washington. The national weather service predicts that the storm will last through the weekend before slowly tapering off."_

Sam glanced back at the window. The snow was piling up. It was no use digging out just yet when the storm would still be on its rampage for the next few days. Besides, where would he go?

His thoughts returned to Dean and dad who still out there somewhere. Dad had not let him in on many details about this hunt because of their current disagreement, so he was clueless as to what they were doing and where they were going. His dad hadn't seemed so worried about it, so he had hoped that it was an easy hunt. But as time went by and the storm lingered, he began to worry even more.

He hoped they at least had managed to find someplace warm to ride out the storm and that they weren't actually out in the storm like he feared.

Why they had to leave before such a heavy storm was another story. If the hunt wasn't as pressing as his dad had let on, then why couldn't it wait? Was his dad so beyond repairing their family that he had just given up and was just bidding his time until Sam left only spending time with him when all other avenues of action were not available?

He hoped desperately that that wasn't the case. He would fight tooth and nail to help them understand, to help their family get over this bump in the road.

* * *

Night was falling all around them. Dean held his shotgun close. They were deeper in the forest now. Their pursuit of the killer had led them in this direction and the clues were only getting stronger. Every few feet, there was a deep mark and it was fairly recent, the snow not completely covering up the print. Whatever they were following wasn't completely human.

"Can we stop dad?" Dean yelled out before bending over in a coughing fit. By the time he stood back up, his dad was right in front of him.

"You okay?" he asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Dean started taking of his scarf and made to remove his large coat.

"Dean," his dad said stepping forward worriedly, reaching out a hand to stop him. "What are you doing?"

Dean shook his head.

"I'm so hot," he explained.

His dad reached a hand up to his forehead.

"You're burning up Dean," he stated with a frown.

"I just need a few minutes," Dean said shaking off his dad's hand.

His dad nodded.

In reality, he needed more than just a few minutes. He needed to be in bed sleeping off whatever he had come down with, but he wouldn't dare tell his dad that. He didn't want to show any sort of weakness in front of him.

After a minute or two, he stared walking again, his dad at his side.

He really wanted to get this thing whatever it was so they could leave this snowy nightmare.

"We almost got this thing, Dean," his dad assured him. "You could be in a bed tonight if we hurry."

Dean nodded and walked on. His dad had said that last night and they were still here in this forsaken forest. His thoughts drifted back to Sam.

He wondered if Sam was out of his mind with worry yet. He knew their dad hadn't told him much about this hunt. He himself was learning about it as he went. He knew he would never have stood for being so out of the loop. Sam was a hound when it came to finding out what he wanted to. He just kept sniffing until he found what he was looking for. It often caused ruffled feathers among the trio. Dean figured that Sam hadn't wanted to make things worse by asking their dad for more details.

He thought of the last time he had seen Sam. He hoped Sam hadn't heard the hurtful words he had said to his dad about Sam, but he knew it was too much to hope for. He had seen the look on Sam's face when he had brushed him off.

He knew his dad had only added to the festival of biting words between the time he himself had gone to his car and the time his dad had come out of the motel room.

The whole thing was getting blown out of proportion. Sam just wanted to go to college, not move across the ocean and never see them again. He knew it would be hard. In the past few weeks he had been trying to wrap his head around the idea of not having Sammy with them all the time and he just couldn't do it.

He had been so lost in his thoughts these past few weeks that he had been ignoring Sammy. He could tell he was hurting his little brother, but he just wanted to stay in his own little world where Sammy never grew up and always stayed with him.

It would be hard, but he would just have to wait until they got back to Omak before he could start on the path to making things better between them all, most especially between him and Sam.

* * *

"_Look, who are you?"_

"_I told you, George. I'm your guardian angel."_

He was watching _It's a beautiful life _on the old motel TV; it was one of his favorites. Dean never could get why Sam liked the old movie. It didn't have fast cars or blazing guns, or even hot scantily clad women; things that Dean found essential in a movie. For Dean this movie was the epitome of a chick flick and Dean did. not. watch. chick flicks.

"_Yeah, yeah, I know. You told me that. What else are you? What...are you a hypnotist?"_

Sam lips quirked upward as he watched George poke Clarence to see if he really was there in front of him.

"_No, of course not," Clarence said serenely._

"_Well, then, why am I seeing all these strange things?"_

Sam put his chin in his hands. He was lying on his stomach, his feet straight back behind him on his pillow. He faced the TV, a small smile still on his lips as he watched.

"_Don't you understand, George? It's because you were not born," Clarence explained as if talking to a toddler._

"_Then if I wasn't born, who am I?" George asked, waving his arm around him as he stood, confused._

_Clarence sat relaxed as ever as he responded__**.**_

"_You're nobody. You have no identity."_

Sam was feeling sleepy. He crossed his arms down on the bed and let his head rest on them.

"_What do you mean no identity? My name's George Bailey."_

_Clarence simply watched George with wise eyes._

"_There is no George Bailey. You have no papers, no cards, no driver's license, no 4-F card, no insurance policy...They're not there, either."_

"_What?" George asked in disbelief._

"_Zuzu's petals. You've been given a great gift, George. A chance to see what the world would be like without you…"_

As Sam's eyes closed he thought of what it would be like to have that chance; to see what the world would be like without him in it.

_It would probably be a lot better_ he thought as he drifted off.

* * *

Lurking in the gathering gloom of night, a yellow eyed demon smiled in pleasure at the thoughts going through the head of his special child.

While he wasn't quite powerful enough to give him a world where he didn't exist, he sure could do some pretty damage under the cover of a dream. As the boy fell into a deeper sleep, he started working his magic, weaving his fine web of deception within the boy's mind.

Of course, the whole thing would not be a complete lie, he was a demon after all. His lies worked best when they had a granule of truth attached.

He smiled evilly.

He would milk this for all he could get and maybe even accelerate his plans a little.


	4. Chapter 4 A walk round the memory tree

**Chapter 4**

**A walk round the memory tree**

_The lights go out and I can't be saved__  
__Tides that I tried to swim against__  
__Have brought me down upon my knees__  
__Oh I beg, I beg and plead…_

_Clocks, Coldplay_

* * *

**November 28th, 2000**

"_I'm worth more dead than alive," George said forlornly._

Sam turned onto his back in his sleep. He was dangerously close to the edge of the bed now. Tears were rolling off his face onto the bed beneath him as the movie played on in the background.

_Clarence shook his head._

"_Now look, you mustn't talk like that; I won't get my wings that attitude," he said quickly. "You just don't know all that you've done. If it hadn't been for you-"_

_George interrupted._

"_Yeeeeeah, if it hadn't been for me everybody would be a lot better off," George said skeptically. "My wife, and my kids, and my friends…"_

Sam turned toward the window. His arm and leg were now hanging off the side of the bed.

"_I suppose it would have been better if I'd never been born at all," George said looking away from Clarence._

Sam mumbled.

"_What'd you say?' Clarence asked almost fearfully._

"_I wish I never been born!" George shouted._

Sam shot up in his bed and tumbled to the floor with his sudden movement.

He sat up rubbing his elbow. It had caught most of his weight on his way down to the floor. Reaching a hand up to his face, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and then pulled himself up back onto his bed.

He looked at the TV. The movie was still playing. He watched the moving images for a moment before realizing that what was happening on the screen had happened before the part he was watching when he had fallen asleep. The movie must have started over. He turned the TV off and reached for his phone on the night stand.

He had to look twice, even a third time at what he saw. It was 5:28 in the evening. But not only that, it was Saturday.

He had been asleep for 24 hours!

How was that even possible?!

He fumbled for the remote and turned the TV back on. He flipped through the channels until he found what he was looking for. The bright smile of a female anchor woman greeted Sam.

"And that's your news for Saturday November 28th 2009," the anchor woman cheerfully said. "Have a wonderful evening and don't forget to tune in-"

Sam turned it off, a frown on his face.

He had been tired, but not enough to sleep 24 hours of his life away! He spent the last few days in this room for heaven sake; the longest distance he had walked was to the bathroom.

Maybe all this emotional business with his family was wearing him out more than he knew. Yes, that had to be it. Even when he was sick he never slept that long. Yes, emotional stress; that had to be it.

He looked to the window. The sky was growing dark, just as it had the last time he had looked at it. There still was no sign of Dean or dad.

His eyes widened.

Thinking of his family promptly reminded him of the dream he had been having. He had gotten so caught up in the shock of waking up a day later that he had momentarily forgotten his dream.

Was it a dream?

It had felt so real.

He held his head in his hands. The full impact of what he had seen in his head was now hitting him. It was as if his mind knew how horrible the things were that he saw in his dream that it tried to protect him by latching onto the shock of waking up a day latter just to keep his mind off of what he woke up from.

Tears started to fall down his face again as his mind replayed image after image from his dream. He put his head in his hands and started to sob. Outside the sky was nearly black.

He was both scared and glad, traumatized and relieved. He didn't know what to think anymore.

He was scared to be alone. The emptiness of the room only served to remind him of how lonely he felt in the absence of his family.

He was glad at the same time however, that they weren't here. He would have hated for them to see him so weak and needy.

He was traumatized because now he felt even more, no he was sure, that he was not the one who was supposed to live on that fateful day when his nursery had caught fire.

But all in all he was relieved.

He now knew what the world would have been like had he died like he was supposed to and his mother had lived.

* * *

John stumbled forward into the white haze around him. He was stupid to have come out here when he did, with a serious storm brewing. He had known about the worsening weather when he had left, but he, thinking that he knew better than those who had trained all their lives to understand these things, had gone out anyway. He had even gone as far as taken Dean with him. He had to be the worst father in history.

Currently, his arms were wrapped around his oldest son's shoulders making sure he stayed upright and that he kept on walking. He had a full blown case of the flu now and if he didn't get them out of here soon, it would no doubt get worse.

The hunt had been a bust. He should have left as he had planned: in a week or two, after he had gotten more solid evidence and clearer idea of what they were going after. In true Winchester fashion, he had let his emotions push him out on the hunt sooner than was smart all because he couldn't deal with being around his youngest son. It looked like his oldest was now paying for that decision.

The tracks they had been following had disappeared shortly after they had discovered them. The snow fall had come down much faster then, covering up the tracks before they could find anymore to go on. So they had plowed ahead, going deeper and deeper into the forest.

If he was being honest with himself, he would say he was lost. But his pride wouldn't let him admit it.

Up ahead there was what looked like a clump of fallen trees. They had fallen in such a manner that they had created what looked to be a stable shelter from the storm.

He pushed on, strengthening his grasp on Dean and his shot gun. Hopefully they would able to weather out the storm there in peace.

* * *

_**Lawrence, Kansas, Thanksgiving 1983**_

"_Mary!" an older woman shrieked happily stepping out of the passenger side of the car she had come in. On the driver's side a similarly aged man was grinning ear to ear._

_They were parked in front of a cheery looking white, two-story house. It had an immaculate lawn and a white picket fence around its borders. It looked absolutely perfect._

"_Mom! Dad!" an excited voice shouted as they ran from the front door of the house out onto the lawn and into the arms of the older woman._

"_Oh Mary," the woman said proudly. "You look as beautiful as always."_

"_Aww mom," Mary said hugging her. "I've missed you."_

"_Me too darling, me too," the older woman said tenderly._

_Mary embraced her dad next and then happily lead them up the pristine, flower lined walkway into the house._

"_Ha!" a loud voice bellowed from another room as the trio came inside and removed their coats. "Did ya see that Dean?"_

_The high pitched laughter of a child was heard in response._

"_Where's my grandson?" the older woman shouted eagerly._

"_Grandma!" a voice screamed, excitement evident in his exclamation._

_Seconds later, a small boy came peeling into the entryway, his arms extended wide._

_Grandma bent down and enveloped him in a warm hug._

"_I missed you sweetie," she said holding his shoulders in her hands and appraising him. "My how you've grown."_

_Dean nodded vigorously._

"_I'm a big boy now!" he happily stated._

"_Of course you are little guy," grandpa chimed in, ruffling the boy's hair affectionately._

_Dean pouted as only a four year old could at being called a 'little guy' after having proclaimed he was a big boy. The look, however, was gone as quick as it came. Dean grabbed both of his grandparent's hands and led them to where he had come from._

_Mary shook her head at her son's antics and followed._

_Eagerly, Dean led them down a short hall way, past some stairs and into the living room where his daddy sat watching a football game._

"_You have to watch this!" Dean exclaimed. "It so exciting!"_

_Grandma rolled her eyes and looked back to Mary as if begging for rescue. Mary waved her on and laughed. Grandpa on the other hand was only too eager to plant himself in front of the screen._

"_Hey John," he said, heartily patting the other man on the shoulder. "What have we got here?"_

_Grandma could only watch in amusement as the two men quickly launched into what she had come to label as football nonsense. Dean had seated himself in between the two men and was drinking it all in. He was the typical boy's boy._

"_Well I better go see how the kitchen is faring," grandma said standing up, taking her leave. Dean peered out from his spot wedged between his dad and grandpa and gazed at her curiously._

"_Is it on fire?" he asked innocently. "Will the food be okay?"_

_Grandma smiled. Behind him Mary was laughing._

"_Don't you worry about the food, baby," Mary answered. "Me and your grandma will make sure it survives."_

_Dean relaxed and leaned back._

"_Okay mommy," he said. Then suddenly, he twisted around "Will there be pie?" he asked hopefully, jumping onto his knees and putting his hands on the back of the couch to catch his mom who was passing by on her way to the kitchen._

"_Of course, Dean," she replied, bending down so their noses were touching. "What would Thanksgiving be without pie?" she ruffled his hair and continued on her way to the kitchen, reveling in the giggling that was left in her wake._

_Grandma was already in the kitchen when Mary got there, gathering ingredients._

"_One grandma made apple pie coming up," she said, bowl and wooden spoon in hand._

"_We can't keep them waiting now can we?" Mary said motioning to the men in the next room._

_They happily began to cook, almost dancing around the kitchen as they got various foods ready for their happy feast._

_An hour later, as grandma checked over her now baking pie, she glanced at her daughter. She was radiating pure happiness, a smile on her face as she chopped some onions._

_Catching her glance, Mary tilted her head._

"_What is it mom?" she asked._

_Grandma smiled, a little teary eyed._

"_You just look so happy," she explained._

_Mary smiled even more._

"_Of course I am," she said. "I got everything I've ever wanted." She looked to the living room where she could see John, Dean, and her dad clearly enjoying the game._

"_I have the man of my dreams, the most perfect son I could have ever hoped for, a roof over our heads, you, dad…" she trailed off._

"_I wouldn't have it any other way."_

_Grandma looked sideways at Mary._

"_Are you sure?" she looked at Dean. "You don't want any more little munchkins around this place?"_

_Mary laughed and shook her head._

"_Dean is more than enough for me," she said fondly. "Me, John, and Dean…"_

"_Just the three of us," she said, "When we had Dean I knew we were complete…"_

* * *

The snow was still falling with a vengeance as John looked around frantically for their attacker. This certainly hadn't gone as planned. As it turned out, the shelter they had found was already occupied and by the thing they were hunting no less.

From the brief glances he had gotten of the thing, it looked like a wendigo, which would fit in with the way those people had died. Wendigos were malevolent cannibalistic spirits with an all reaching hunger for flesh, human flesh.

But something seemed off. He wasn't quite convinced it was a wendigo. It looked more human.

He looked around himself. He couldn't see Dean anymore.

"Dean!" he shouted.

Suddenly he was airborne. As he twisted through the air, he saw a dark shadow among the snow flurries before he collided with something hard and knew no more.

* * *

_**Lawrence, Kansas, Thanksgiving 1983**_

"_This looks amazing Mary!" grandpa exclaimed as he took a seat the table._

"_Can I have some pie first mommy?" Dean asked as soon as he caught sight of the treat._

_Mary shook her head._

"_No honey, you know the rules," she said sternly, but lovingly taking her seat next to John who leaned over and kissed her on the cheek._

"_What are you waiting for?" grandma said bringing over the last pot and placing it on the table. "Dig in!"_

_Chaos broke out as everyone seemed to grab anything and everything in front of them._

"_Animals," Mary teased._

_John laughed._

"_Gotta fight for my share," he said with a tilt of his head. Mary punched him in the arm playfully._

"_No brawls at the table," grandma chastised._

"_What's a brawel?" Dean asked, mispronouncing the word in true 4 year old fashion._

_This brought a chorus of laughs from around the table._

_Outside, the sun was setting in a glorious warm orange blaze. Things could only get more perfect for the house with the white picket fence._

_They were the perfect family._

* * *

"Dad!" Dean shouted. No one answered.

His teeth were chattering as he looked around himself for any trace of his father or the thing that had gotten the drop on them.

"Dad!" he shouted again.

He wiped the back of his hand across his sweaty forehead. He felt like crap. His dad was nowhere in sight, and the storm was only getting worse.

Lucky him.

He looked into the snow flurries ahead of him. There was a dark shadow that seemed to be coming toward him. Before he could point his gun at it, the object collided with him, sending him backwards into the snow.

Dean groaned and frantically pushed the object off.

"Dad!" he yelled as soon as he recognized what the object was. He shook his dad to no avail. "Dad!"

Up ahead another shadow looked to be coming toward them.

Dean pushed himself in front of his dad protectively and aimed his gun at the shadow. This was gonna end now.

* * *

_**Lawrence, Kansas, Thanksgiving 1983**_

_Later that evening, after the grandparents had left, Mary stood in the doorway of her only son's room. She loved watching him sleep. He was so peaceful looking, like an angel._

_Behind her, warm arms wrapped themselves around her shoulders._

"_He's a little angel isn't he?" he said softly._

"_Only when he's sleeping," Mary whispered back, a smile on her face._

_The warms arms turned her around to face the man she loved._

"_I love you Mary," he whispered pulling her in for a tender embrace._

"_I love you too, John Winchester," Mary said into his chest._

_Minutes passed as the pair stayed in their loving embrace. Nothing could have made the moment more perfect._

* * *

The shadow burst from the snow with a guttural roar.

Dean didn't hesitate. He shot the creature ruthlessly, emptying his gun in the process. The creature howled in pain at the impacts before collapsing onto the ground.

Dean took a few calming breaths. He stared at the creature lying in front of him.

_That was entirely too close_ he thought.

His attention shifted to his father. He shook him again.

"Dad," he prompted.

This time he was rewarded with a groan.

"Dean?" his dad asked groggily, sitting up and rubbing his head. He caught sight of the mangled creature. "You got him Dean?" he said, a hint of pride showing in his voice.

Dean shook his head.

"We have to burn it," he said.

John nodded and stood up, stumbling until he caught his balance.

Dean slowly pushed himself up.

"You okay dad?" he asked.

John smiled.

"It would take more than getting thrown into a tree to take me out Dean."

Dean winced.

"You didn't hit a tree dad," Dean revealed.

John frowned and put the pieces together.

"Are you okay?" he asked, grimacing.

"No better than I was before you went all head on, on me," he said walking closer to the creature.

John nodded sadly and gazed down at the creature.

"We'll never be able to burn it in this weather," he said.

Dean sighed.

"We'll just have to keep an eye on it," Dean said reaching down with his gloved hands and grabbing a hold of the creature. "Where's that shelter?"

John, realizing what he meant, reached down and grabbed some of the weight of the creature.

"I think it's this way," he said leading the way.

Nearly an hour later, with dark skies all around, they finally found the shelter. The foul smell that seemed to shroud the place was enough to make anyone gag. It definitely wasn't the Hilton, but it was a roof over their heads.

Leaving the creature in clear view near the entrance, the pair of hunters hunkered down as far away from it as they could. John held his shot gun at the ready, ready to shoot the creature if it turned out that it wasn't as dead as they thought.

Beside him, Dean was asleep, his head resting on his dad's shoulder. The adrenaline he had been running on was long gone. He still had a fever and a racking cough.

John was bone tired, but with his son out like a log, he couldn't risk their safety by sleeping as well.

He wished he had some hot coffee right about now.

Outside, the storm raged on. John could only hope that the storm would blow over soon, for both their sakes.

* * *

All was dark in small motel room. Only the faint light of a street lamp shining through the falling snow graced the room. Sam lay in a tight ball, the covers wrapped tight around him. It was as he was trying to use the blankets as a barrier against the images that were constantly playing in his mind.

His eyes were wide open, staring straight out the window and at the faint light that lay beyond. He couldn't sleep, not that he wanted to. Sleep brought dreams and dreams brought unwelcome truths.

Where were Dean and Dad?

Were they okay?

Were they even alive? Or even worse,

Had they abandoned him here all alone in this small town to fend for himself?

These questions and many more plagued his tortured mind. As they had all day, his thoughts turned to his mother and the perfect Thanksgiving he had seen in his dreams. She had seemed so unbelievably happy, surrounded by those she loved the most.

Sam hadn't been there.

It was what would have been had he not been born. He had robbed his family of this blessed experience, of a happy home life, a normal life, just by existing. For without him, she never would have had to die.

Somehow, and he couldn't explain it, he knew that the demon was after him that fateful night, not his mother. She didn't need to die, but she had, all because of him.

Because of him, Dean had missed out on having an amazing, loving, caring mother. It was pure torture seeing it all play out in his mind's eye. But he couldn't deny it.

His family would have been so much better off if he hadn't been born.


	5. Chapter 5 Going Under

**Chapter 5**

**Going under**

_I'm stuck in my own head and I'm oceans away__  
__Would anybody notice if I chose to stay?__  
__I'll send an S.O.S. tonight__  
__And wonder if I will survive…_

_S.O.S., Good Charlotte_

* * *

**November 29th, 2000**

Outside, the snow was lessening as the day progressed. Inside, Sam lay as he had all night. His eyes were wide open, staring out the window. Dean and dad still hadn't come back. Either something had gone terribly wrong, or they had left him all alone.

_It's a wonder they didn't leave you sooner._

Sam shook his head vigorously.

_That's not true, _he thought back._ They may not be happy with me now, but they would never abandon me._

_You keep telling yourself that…_

The voice went silent.

Sam blinked. He had just had a conversation with himself. A few days alone and he was going crazier than any supernatural creature he had ever met.

He threw off his covers suddenly. The chill in the air hit him hard. The heating must have gone out in the night again. Somehow though, he didn't mind. He made his way to the window and looked out. He could almost make out the other row of motel rooms across from him. The storm was finally tapering off. He walked back to his bed and sat down.

Grabbing his phone, he checked the time and date. After yesterday, he couldn't be too sure what day it was. It was Sunday. Tomorrow would bring school, unless of course it was declared a snow day. He hoped that that wouldn't happen. He couldn't stand being alone, trapped in this room another day.

The thought of school reminded him about his homework. Amazingly, he hadn't made much progress in that area. It was an odd day that didn't find Sam wanting to do his homework. Dean would have immediately questioned his identity if he knew that Sam hadn't done a single assignment when every opportunity was there to complete them all.

He must be going crazy.

He reached over and grabbed the first book in his pile: Calculus. Pushing himself further onto the bed, Sam laid the book out in front of him and crossed his legs. He pulled out the paper and pen stashed between the pages and got to work.

Even though he often lived for homework, his mind just wasn't into it right now. Yet, he struggled on. It was something to do that didn't involve thinking of his M.I.A. family or his dreams. and that was enough to keep him going.

* * *

As far as he could tell, it was afternoon now. They were still out in the forest, huddling under the shelter of a few fallen trees. Outside the snow was still lightly falling, but he could see the trees beyond much clearer than before. It was good sign.

Last night had been so hard for him. No matter how hard he fought, he hadn't been able to stop himself from falling asleep. If anything had happened, he never would have forgiven himself. It was Dean's hacking cough that had woke him from his slumber. It had been lucky timing too. The creature had started to stir shortly after Dean had woke him up. A shot from his shot gun had quieted the thing, at least for now.

That had been hours ago.

Dean was asleep now. John placed the back of his hand on his eldest's forehead. It was a hot as ever. John looked to the entrance of the little shelter. He had to do something.

Gently lifting Dean off his shoulder, John leaned him against the wall. Making sure he wouldn't fall over, John stood up as much as he could in the shelter and made his way toward the entrance. Stepping over the creature, he peered outside for a closer look. The snow was tapering off fast. Only a few snowflakes were falling here and there. The clouds were slowly separating, partially revealing the sun.

He stepped back into the shelter and bent down toward the creature. He dragged it as far as he was willing to go which wasn't very far because of Dean. Dropping the body, John assessed his next move. It was no use trying to remove the snow; it was too deep.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his lighter, bent down, and flicked it several times until a small flame was lit. He touched the flame to the body and waited until the fire stuck before pulling back. Minutes later the fire was out.

John sighed.

This wouldn't be as quick as he had hoped.

* * *

_**January 24th 1988, Lawrence, Kansas**_

_Shouts and happy laugher filled the backyard of the Winchester's house. About a dozen kids were running around launching snowballs through the air at each other. Some had even managed to build forts from which they launched their attacks on the others._

_It was behind one of these forts that Dean Winchester hid. He wasn't alone though. A girl was beside him, similarly on her knees, peering out at the others, looking for a target._

_All the kids looked like waddling marshmallows all bundled up against the cold. Beneath the woolen hat she wore the girl smiled mischievously before throwing her hand back and launching a snowball and another girl 10 feet away that had ran out from her hiding place._

_The resulting yell as the girl realized she had been hit, caused her attacker to burst out laughing. Beside her Dean smiled._

"_Good one Gracie!" he praised._

_The other girl blushed._

"_This is the most awesomest birthday party ever!" the girl exclaimed._

_Dean nodded his head vigorously._

"_My mom is so cool!" Dean said, looking toward the back sliding door where he knew his mom would be watching._

"_You got that right," the girl agreed._

_Dean raised a gloved hand. Gracie raised hers too. They high fived each other and got back to work._

* * *

Hours passed before John managed to completely burn away the creature's body. As he had watched the body burn, he had noticed that the body was in fact more human than a wendigo should be, yet not completely. In fact, if he looked closely enough, he could swear that there was a passing resemblance to the last missing person on his list. Had something supernatural overcome this person and made them kill all those other people? He would have to ask Bobby if had ever come across something like this so he could know for future reference.

By the time he had finished with the body, he was even more tired than he had been before. But he couldn't give in just yet though. He had to get Dean out of here. He was getting seriously worried about Dean's fever. Inside the shelter, Dean still slept. John had made a make shift bed out of Dean's coat and scarf so he could be more comfortable and be free of the heavy coat. With the heat radiating from his body, the coat would only do more harm than good; and maybe the cold would even help to bring down Dean's fever.

Tiredly, he made his way back to the shelter. It was now late afternoon. The sun had barely begun to set. Hopefully there still would be a few more hours of daylight to find their way back to his truck and get out of this forsaken wilderness.

He bent down and gently shook Dean. His answer was a groan that grew into a coughing fit. John ached to see his son so sick.

"We should get moving," John said softly.

Dean looked up at his dad.

"Did you take care of the body?" Dean questioned. His voice was raspy.

"It's all taken of," John assured. "Let's get you up."

He made to help Dean up, but his son pushed him away.

"I'm fine," he said.

John sighed and moved back to give Dean some space. That was Dean, independent to the core.

When he stood up, Dean hit his head on the roof.

"Easy there," John said moving forward to steady him.

Dean didn't say anything this time and let his dad lead him out of the shelter. John quickly went back into the shelter and retrieved Dean's coat and scarf. They had lost their camping gear in the fight with the creature out somewhere in the snow, so they didn't have to worry about the extra weight. It was another incentive to get to the truck tonight.

Once outside, John let Dean walk on his own. His son was nothing if but independent and would no doubt push his dad away if John didn't let him go first.

By now, the snow had stopped falling and the sky was the clearest it had been in days. John took it as a good omen and pressed forward. The fact that he was clueless as to how to get back to their truck didn't faze John. He had to do something and at least this way he could feel like he was making some sort of progress.

Beside him Dean was walking as if in a daze. John prayed that the fever wasn't getting any worse. He moved closer to Dean should he need him.

He was just glad they were finished with the hunt. Soon they would be sleeping in beds and drinking hot coffee to warm themselves. He held on to that happy thought as he plowed on forward, Dean at his side.

* * *

_**November 14th 1994, Lawrence Kansas**_

"_Dean Winchester!" A voice boomed out over the loud speaker. The gathered crowd cheered and began clapping as Dean stood up and made his way to the front of the gymnasium._

_Once up front and center, he shook the hands of the school officials gathered before coming up to the man with the microphone who held up a red jacket for all to see._

"_Dean is a sophomore and we're pretty darned pleased to have him on the team," the announcer yelled out. The crowd cheered again. "He's earned this jacket through and through."_

_The man motioned for Dean to come closer. Grabbing the proffered jacket, Dean put it on to the delight of the crowd. He pointed at the logo on the front of the jacket proudly. It was a winking lion wearing a red shirt, otherwise known as the chesty lion; it was the school mascot. He turned back to the man._

"_Thanks coach," he said with a nod of his head. He walked behind the man and joined the other members of the football team that had come up for their own awards._

"_Now that we've recognized all the members of the team, we will now proceed with the photo part of the ceremony." Several parents stood up and moved to the front to sneak in some shots before the school photographer came up._

_After a few minutes of positioning and preparation, the picture was taken before the team members were swarmed by proud family members._

"_Dean!" he heard his mother shout through the crowd. Dean made his way toward the voice, greeting the people he met on the way and receiving several thumps on the back from team members and friends._

_Eventually he found his mom along with his dad and a small group of his closest friends._

_His mom was the first to hug him._

"_My little football player," she cooed._

_Dean smiled and pushed her away playfully._

"_Little?" he said teasingly. "I'm taller than you!"_

"_Come here son," John said opening his arms wide._

"_I'm proud of you," he said as he hugged him tight and let him go._

_Dean moved onto his friends who all teased him about how being a letterman would allow him to have any girl he wanted._

"_I don't know," he joked. "What if I already have her?"_

_A girl to his left punched his arm. She had long wavy blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and porcelain skin._

"_How are you so sure you have her?" she teased. "Has she told you that?"_

_His other friends snickered while Dean laughed._

"_Well she certainly has me Gracie," he replied._

_His friend all made gagging noises._

"_Hey, let's cut the sap okay?" one of his friends cut in, "Let's keep the sugar in the refreshments, please?"_

_Dean perked up._

"_I forgot about that," he muttered, instantly looking for the desert table._

"_Dean and food, a match made in heaven," Gracie tutted._

_Dean looked back at her and stuck his tongue out. She responded in kind and rushed up to catch up with him._

_The rest of the night was spent eating desert, talking football, and laughing at each other._

_It was a good night._

* * *

As Dean trudged on, his feet seemed to get heavier and heavier, his head harder and harder to hold up. All around them the light was fading and they had yet to find the truck. He could tell his dad didn't have a clue about where they were, but he was too tired to bring it up. It took all his concentration just to put one foot in front of the other.

After hours of walking, nothing around them seemed to change. They were surrounded by an endless sea of white. The bare trees loomed over them as if wanting to claim them as their next victims.

He was freezing. Though he had complained earlier about being so hot it felt like summer, now he felt as if he were freezing in the Antarctic. Shivering, he pulled his coat tighter around himself.

The sun was quickly falling in the sky now, its last light barely touching the tops of the trees around them. It looked like they would be spending another dreadful night out in this wilderness. Dean looked to the sky as if asking the gods why he was being punished in this manner.

Bringing his gaze back to what was in front of him, Dean couldn't help but think that maybe this was their punishment for treating Sammy the way they had. He thought of Sam, all alone stuck in motel room back in Omak, not knowing whether they were alive or dead, or heaven forbid, thinking that they had abandoned him.

That was ridiculous though. They would never leave Sam, it just wasn't possible. That's why it had hurt them all so much to learn that he wanted to go off to college. It was as if he were abandoning them, never to see them again. Truth was they needed Sam more than they let on. He was integral to their family's survival. He kept everyone together by not allowing things to go unspoken to the point of permanent damage. He kept them in tune with each other. He was their personal psychologist in a way, a peacekeeper at heart.

Oh the things that must be going through that head of his. Sam was the type of person that would analyze everything that went on around him. It was what made him so smart. But at the same time it made him so sensitive. Over the years though, Sam had become an expert at hiding his true feelings. Dean felt that he had himself and Dad to blame for that. The two of them hated showing weakness and always harped to Sam that showing weakness was to open yourself to being hurt or even killed.

Dean shook his head; of all the times to get sentimental.

He looked to his dad. He was as quiet as ever, putting all his energy in finding a way out of this forest. An idea came to Dean's mind. Why hadn't he thought of it earlier?

"Dad," Dean said, breaking the silence. "Do you still have your phone?"

His dad turned and stared at him for a moment before understanding dawned in his eyes. His hands went to his pants pockets. Dean watched as his dad pulled out his wallet, a lighter, and his truck keys, but no phone.

"Maybe it fell out when…" Dean heard him mumble.

His dad moved on to his coat pocket, searching the right one with no success, then the left. His eyes widened as he found the object of his search. Pulling it out of his pocket, he powered it on. A minute later, it was in working order, fully charged.

Dean sighed in relief, actually thankful for once that his dad hadn't turned on his phone.

"Do you have a signal?" Dean asked hopefully.

His dad dialed 911 and started to nod in the affirmative as it rang but stopped when he heard a beep that abruptly stopped the ringing. He pulled the phone from his ear and stared at the screen.

_No signal._

His dad sighed.

"We'll just keep walking till we get a signal," he said determinedly.

Dean wanted to poke his eyes out at the thought of walking on. His headache was only getting worse and he was shivering worse than an excited fanboy. Yet he walked on. It was all they could do short of sitting their butts down and freezing to death.

* * *

_**May 25th 1997, Lawrence, Kansas**_

_The field was practically covered in red as parents and family hugged and congratulated their newly minted Lawrence High School graduates. As soon as the last words of the ceremony had been said and the caps thrown into the air, the graduates had rushed into the crowd to find their waiting family members and friends to start the celebration. In the background, the school band blasted the school's fight song into the air._

_In the crowd searching for their own graduate were Mary and John Winchester. Following closely behind were the proud grandparents of Dean Winchester. They had their camera at the ready, anxious to document the happy day._

"_Hey Steven," Mary said, hugging the young man that had just appeared before her in the crowd. He was Dean's best friend. "Have you seen Dean?"_

_Steven snickered._

"_I saw him sneak behind the bleachers with Gracie," he revealed._

_Mary put her hands over her mouth and turned to John._

"_You don't think?" she asked, excitement dancing in her eyes._

_John only tilted his to the side and smiled knowingly._

_Behind the bleachers, away from the crowd and somewhat shielded from the noise, Dean held Gracie in his arms._

"_We did it," she said happily._

_Dean cupped her face in his hands._

"_We sure did," he said with a kiss._

_As soon as they parted lips, he knelt down on one knee. Gracie's eyes filled with happy tears as Dean reached inside his red robes and pulled out a small velvet covered box. Opening it, he revealed a simple gold ring with a bright diamond in the center._

"_I know it's not much," Dean said sheepishly. Gracie shook her head, her blonde waves falling over her shoulder._

"_It's more than enough Dean," She said putting her hand out._

"_So I take it that's a yes?" he asked tipping his head toward her hand._

_Gracie rolled her eyes._

"_Just put it on my finger already," she said good naturedly._

_Only to eager to obey, Dean gently slipped the ring on her finger and stood up. Taking her in his arms he lifted her up and spun around._

_When he dropped her back onto the ground he looked over her shoulder to see that they now had an audience._

_Following his gaze, Gracie saw Dean's parents and grandparents. She rushed out of Dean's arms and ran over to Mary to show off her new hardware. While the women all talked excitedly about the engagement, John and Mary's father went over to Dean and clapped him on the back happily._

_Nearly a month to the day, the happy couple were wedded in the back yard of the white two story house with the white picket fence. It was a day remembered by all as the day that a great love was cemented in the stars._

* * *

As Sam opened his eyes, he found that he was just inches away from his math book. Straightening up, he uncrossed his legs and pushed himself over until he was sitting on the edge of the bed, his feet touching the ground. Judging by the half completed math problem and the pen mark that trailed off the page, he must have fallen asleep mid problem.

He looked to the window. Outside, all was calm and the sky looked as clear as ever. Sam rubbed his eyes to clear the sleep from them. His sleep schedule was so out of wack now. His stomach rumbled. He hadn't eaten much these past few days. The food he had gotten for their failed thanksgiving, had yet to be finished. Every time he took a bite of that food, it reminded him of the last words his father had spoken, the words Dean had failed to speak, and his own words that had started this whole mess. It was hard to swallow.

But he still had to eat. His father had left him no money with which to go and get any food. All that had been left that fateful day was a few sodas, half a pizza, and a can of beans. It certainly wasn't enough to get him through the weekend. Even if he had been left money, he wouldn't have been able to get anything because of the storm. So in the end, it had been a good thing that he had bought all that food.

All the food in the world though, no matter what it reminded him of, couldn't keep his thoughts away from what he had dreamed of.

He had seen Dean have a _real_ birthday party with friends, and these were_ true_ friends, not just acquaintances. While Dean always was popular where ever they went, he had never made any lasting friendships because he always knew they wouldn't be sticking around. Birthday parties were another thing that they both had missed out on. They were lucky if they had cake, let alone ice cream and presents.

He had to admit though, he never would have guessed that Dean would've been a varsity football player, but he supposed Dean never really had the chance to go for it with the way they kept moving around. Oh, he liked football well enough. Give him a game on TV and a beer and he would be set. But to think that Dean could've been so much more had he had the chance…

He thought of the girl he had seen, Gracie. She was beautiful. If he hadn't been born then Dean would have already been married to her for three years. Maybe they'd even have a kid or two by now.

Dean would never have what Sam had seen. That dream had died the day he was born, forever changing his family's life and not for the better. He was a curse to the family. How would he ever be able to make up for all the bad he had caused?

How could he make it all better?

The hard truth came to his mind amid a cloud of hopeless denial.

_Nothing. There was nothing he could do._

His shoulders began to shake as the tears started to fall down his face. Slumping off of the bed onto the cold floor, Sam pulled his legs to his chest and hugged them. Leaning his face on his knees, he sobbed in agony at the horrible truth that there was nothing he could do to right the wrongs he had caused.

* * *

Lurking in shadows, the yellow eyed demon reveled in the pain and despair radiating off of the young Winchester. It was delectable; and all he had had to do to be so rewarded was plant a few dreams and thoughts in the boys head, just enough to make him believe that he was the reason for all the tragedy that had occurred to the small family.

He had to remember to thank the boy's family later. Without their callous words and actions he never would have been able to break the boy so easily.

The demon's mind was a light at all the things he could do to have a little fun with the boy, short of killing him. The boy was no good to him dead. With the boy's family holed up in the nearby forest with no clue where they were, the young boy before him was ripe for the picking.

It was all just fun and games for him.


	6. Chapter 6 Between dreaming and waking

**Chapter 6**

**Between dreaming and waking**

_All around me are familiar faces__  
__Worn out places, worn out faces__  
__Bright and early for their daily races__  
__Going nowhere, going nowhere_

_Mad world, Gary Jules_

* * *

**November 30th 2000**

It was something to be thankful for. School had not been cancelled. The distraction of digging himself out of his room had been more than welcome. He had had to burrow his way out before finding a nearby shovel that he then used to dig his way back in.

The snowplows had been working hard all morning. By the time he left the motel, the roads were almost completely clear. The sidewalks were another story however. By the time he had gotten to school, he was already ready to go back to sleep. It didn't help that he hadn't slept at all last night. His sleep schedule was so off that he hadn't really felt sleepy and when he finally did, he didn't want to sleep. He didn't want to get another glimpse in his dreams of the happy home life that he had stolen away from his family by simply existing.

Now it was lunch time. He had barely survived his morning classes, almost nodding off more times than he could count. His fellow classmates had thrown concerned glances his way, but so far hadn't said anything to him.

Up ahead was the cafeteria. He didn't go in. Instead, he walked past it and out the front doors of the school out onto the snow covered school grounds. He walked around until he found a bench that was partially hidden from view. He sat down and moved his backpack off his back and onto his lap. For the next few minutes he just sat there and stared into space until the thoughts he had been avoiding caught up with him again.

Dean and his dad had not shown up last night or this morning. They had not called either. The early morning news had not mentioned any new missing people or deaths, but then again, not many people here would miss them if something did happen. They had only been here for about a month.

He was so tired. All this drama was wearing him down. He laid his head down on his backpack and closed his eyes. Just a few minutes and then he would go back to class…

* * *

"Gotta… keep moving," John repeated.

Beside him, Dean looked half asleep and not all there. John himself was looking a little more than beat. The two of them walked like zombies, stumbling as they went. They had both gone tumbling down into the snow more than a few times when their feet had not responded quickly enough to their body's commands.

John pulled his phone out of his pocket. He had been doing this frequently as they walked.

Still no signal.

John shook his head and thrust his hand back into his pocket. They had spent another cold night in the snow. He had been so tired. Giving in, if only for a few hours, the pair had found another fallen tree and snuggled up to it in an effort to keep warm. It hadn't been hard for John to keep warm with the way Dean was still radiating heat. Still, it had been a blessing that they had made it through the night without freezing in the chilly temperatures.

He wasn't so sure that they would be able to last another night though. He coughed. His head was pounding; of all the times to start coming down with something.

Beside him Dean started mumbling. He raised his arm and started waving it in front of him as if he were pushing something out of his way. John frowned. Dean was hallucinating. That meant his fever had probably gotten even worse.

John pulled out his phone again, praying for a signal.

_No signal._ He wanted to scream.

Before he was even aware of it, he hit the ground face first. Using both his hands, he pushed himself up and spit out the mouthful of snow that had forced its way into his mouth. Turned around, he saw the reason for his fall.

Dean was lying partially on his leg, out like a log.

"Not good, not good…" John muttered.

As gently as he could, he shifted Dean off his leg.

"Dean," John said, shaking his son's shoulder. His son was as still as death. "Dean!"

He reached a hand to Dean's neck, then to his chest. He sighed worriedly. His heartbeat was little faster than he would have liked, and his breaths shallower than he thought was healthy, but what did he know?

He stood up and looked around himself. About 10 feet away was a particularly large tree. Bending down, he grabbed a hold of Dean's shoulders and dragged him over to the tree, leaning him up against it. Dean's head hung forward limply.

"It'll be okay," John repeated, sitting down next to Dean and putting his arm around him, pulling him close. "It'll be okay."

* * *

_**December 25th 2000, Lawrence, Kansas**_

"_Look Dean, isn't it so cute?" Gracie said holding up a tiny blue onesie. She was sitting in a rocking chair by the fireplace._

_Sitting next to her, Dean took the tiny piece of clothing from her grasp and stared at it irrediculously._

"_He's gonna be this small?" he asked. Having had no siblings growing up, he didn't know the first thing about babies._

_John and Mary, sitting on the couch across from the other couple, shared a look._

"_You were that small once, ya know Dean," John stated._

_Dean looked at the tiny onesie once more before placing it the growing pile before him. Gracie had about a month left to go. If things worked out right, their son could even come on his very own birthday. Dean smiled at the thought. It was something he wouldn't mind sharing at all._

"_Open our presents," Dean prompted, looking eagerly at his parents._

_Reaching forward, Mary grabbed two soft looking packages, taking one for herself and handing the other to John. When they both got their respective presents opened there was some confusion. They looked at each other before stretching out their gifts across their chests and looking pointedly at Dean and Gracie._

"_Don't look at me," Gracie said laugher bursting from her mouth. "He wrapped everything."_

_Dean only smiled mischievously._

_Stretched across John and Mary's chests, were sweaters that proclaimed "Grandma" and Grandpa" respectively._

_Dean couldn't hold it anymore. He laughed loudly, while John and Mary switched sweaters. Gracie hit Dean on the shoulder and laughed again. The laughter was contagious and in no time John and Mary joined in. It was another picture perfect Christmas._

_Later that night, after Dean and Gracie had left; John and Mary had their own private gift exchange. Mary had gifted John with a handmade quit featuring all of his favorite things from family to his favorite sports team. It was now draped over the two of them as John reached down beside the couch to present his gift to Mary._

_It was relatively heavy, thick and square. Mary looked at John questioningly before proceeding to tear open the wrapping._

_Inside was a purple covered book. Purple was Mary's favorite color. Curious, she opened it. On the first page was a short introduction._

_**Made for my dearest Mary,**_

_**You have given me so much, I can't even explain. So I thought that I should just show you instead…**_

_**I love you more than words can explain,**_

_**John**_

_Mary smiled, her eyes watering at the deeply heartfelt note she had just read. Without hesitation she turned the page. It was a picture of the two of them at prom. John was grinning ear to ear, his arms wrapped protectively around Mary._

_The next few pictures were various shots through their high school years. Some of them she hadn't even known at the time were taken._

_The next page made her pause. It was their wedding picture. He had looked so handsome that day and he had only grown more so with age. She glanced up at him and smiled. He smiled back and kissed her on her forehead._

_The next few pages of pictures were of her when she had been pregnant with Dean. In some of them she looked less than happy at having her picture taken. But a few pages later a smile was back on her face as she held a tiny sleeping baby Dean. It felt like yesterday that she was holding him in her arms and here he was now preparing to hold his own child in his arms. In many ways, they had come full circle._

_John looked on as his wife flipped through the pages pausing occasionally to remember good times past. He had had a wonderful life, the book of pictures proved that, but more so, he had a wonderful wife who had blessed him with a son to be proud of._

_He couldn't imagine what he would be like without Mary. He would rather die than not have her at his side._

* * *

The last school bell of the day rang, heralding the mass exit of dozens and dozens of students. Car engines sounded, while the sound of those walking filled the air. It was the end of another school day.

It was the sound of a honking car in the parking lot that woke Sam from the slumber he had succumbed to. Waking with a jerk, he looked around himself surprised. Dawning shown from his eyes as he remembered how he had left the school building at lunch time and had sat here meaning to close his eyes for just a few minutes.

He rubbed his cheek. Those few minutes had turned into hours. How would he explain this to his teachers, to his family? He rubbed his arms with his hands, trying to warm them. Looking down at himself, he finally noticed that he was only wearing a sweater. No wonder he was cold. Why hadn't he noticed this before?

Wearily, he stood up and threw his backpack over his shoulder. He would have to get his homework for today tomorrow. Sighing, he made his way to the sidewalk careful to avoid the large groups of students walking together. Normally he didn't mind being around them, but right now, he didn't feel particularly social.

Though the sun shined bright above, his thoughts were anything but cheerful. He had dreamed while he napped. He had seen the future this time, a future where Dean was going to be a father and his dad was a hopeless romantic. He never thought in a million years that his dad could be so sentimental and caring. The dad he knew was tough and hard and rarely showed any sort of gentle emotion, let alone love.

Sure, sometimes he allowed a hint of pride to show through, but that was only for things that he viewed as being worthy. Scholastic achievements seemed to be low on that list. It was a good thing he was doing the school thing for himself, or he would never have the motivation to do it on his own. Kill a supernatural being however, or come up with some new way to help the hunt along and that was something to be proud of by his father's standards.

He had tried many times to be more enthusiastic about the hunt and more interested, but it had never gotten an ounce of pride from his father. It had only gotten the whole "You should be more like your brother" speech even though he was already trying his hardest to do just that. Eventually he had just given up, both on the faking interest in the hunt and seeking out his father's pride. It just wasn't worth fighting for anymore.

At least now he knew why his dad was the way he was. Without his mother there to soften and support him, he had lost his ability to express his emotions freely and had bottled them deep inside where nothing could affect him anymore. If Sam hadn't been born, then his mother would never have died, which meant that his dad wouldn't have turned into a cold hard cynic and Dean never would have had to grow up with an emotionally damaged father. It was all connected and all paths led to one thing: his birth.

How strange that one event could have the power to change so much.

* * *

Night was falling fast along with the temperature. Dean hadn't woken up yet. He still sat, leaning against the tree that John had dragged him over to. John had walked as far as he was willing to go from Dean in an effort to get some sort of cell phone reception, but he had yet to be successful. Making it even more critical was the fact that the cell phone was now low on power.

He sat down next to Dean once more and checked him over. Nothing had changed. He glanced back at his phone and tried to dial 911 again. He waited to hear the beep that would tell him he had no signal, but it never came. When a voice answered instead he was joyous beyond belief.

Quickly explaining his situation, he was heartened to hear that they would be sending out rescue teams to find them right away. As soon as he hung up, he looked up the sky and sent off a silent prayer of thanks.

They were finally getting out of this mess.

* * *

He peeked out the window, out into the blackness beyond hopefully, looking for some sign that Dean and dad were back. There was nothing; just as there had been every time he checked for the past few hours.

_Where were they?_

He hoped they were ok and not in some hospital fighting for their lives. But then again, if they were fine, why hadn't they called?

_Because they've already left you._

The voice in his head had returned with a passion.

_Maybe they just don't have reception where they are, _he thought back. That was most likely it, right?

_How many excuses will you tell yourself before you realize the truth?_

Sam shook his head in denial. Suddenly he turned away from the window and went over to his bed. He pulled on his boots and his coat and then walked to door. This room was driving him crazy.

Closing the door behind him, he realized that he was wearing his bright blue pajama pants, but he didn't care. They were warm and he didn't really know anyone in this town well enough to care what they thought of him.

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he kept his gaze on the sidewalk in front of him. So many thoughts were running through his head. It was no use trying to organize them.

The only things he knew for sure were that his family was out there somewhere without him, he was all alone, and he definitely shouldn't have been born.

When he finally glanced up he found himself in unfamiliar territory which wasn't very hard for him to be in. He only ever walked from the motel to school and back again.

Now what?

All around him was darkness save the light from the Wal-Mart parking lot a short distance away. From what little he remembered of the drive here, Wal-Mart was on the edge of town. If he was near Wal-Mart then that probably meant that he was most likely walking along the main high way that ran vertically through the town. That really didn't help him much as he didn't have a clue how to get back to the motel from here. He figured he might as well go to Wal-Mart and ask for directions.

As he walked on the left side of the road toward the light in the distance, he realized he was about to go over a river. In the darkness it was hard to tell. All around him was silent. He hadn't noticed any vehicles passing by.

Just as he had taken a few steps forward he heard the sounds of a vehicle approaching behind him. Glancing back he saw the driver swerve into the oncoming lane before regaining control. Judging by how fast the vehicle was approaching, the driver was speeding.

Just as he processed that thought, the car was in plain view and swerving toward him. There was nothing he could do but raise his hands to his face to shield his eyes from the bright headlights before he felt the impact of a brick wall, then the sensation of flying, and lastly the darkness of oblivion.


	7. Chapter 7 Once upon a December

**Chapter 7**

**Once upon a December**

_Hope fades__  
__Into the world of night__  
__Through shadows falling__  
__Out of memory and time…_

_Into the west, Annie Lennox_

* * *

**December 1st 2000**

The sun was rising in the sky. It was a welcome change. He and his fellow search and rescue team members had been scouring the forest as best they could by the dim light of flashlights in the night in search of two lost hunters who had been caught in the weekend storm. There were quite a few hunters out here this time of year hunting elk.

He had been told that one of the hunters was very sick and most likely would need medical care right away. Having walked around this freezing forest all night, he feared that that would be the least of the problems they would find when they finally found those two.

He stowed his flash light in his backpack and walked on. He hoped they found these hunters soon. If it took any longer then they would have to call out the helicopter. They were limited in personnel as far as numbers went.

Maybe the helicopter was a good idea.

He was pretty deep into the forest now. There weren't any roads in this far. Earlier he had passed a group of fallen trees that he suspected the hunters had hid in sometime during their ordeal. He didn't bother asking why they had left its relative safety. The place stunk to put it mildly. He had been more than glad to leave the area.

After a night out here, he had to admit he wouldn't mind leaving this whole forest altogether. If he felt that way after one night, he couldn't imagine how those hunters must be feeling.

Up ahead, the trees were larger. He walked on, his eyes taking in everything around him, looking for the slightest thing out of place.

A voice broke his concentration.

"_We found two duffle bags, filled with camping gear, hunting knives and ammunition, several types from the looks of it, Copy over."_

He pulled his mobile handset and replied, then put it back on his belt. So these hunters were without their gear. They were on their own. He wove his way around a particularly large tree, wanting to make sure they weren't on the other side. Finding nothing, he rounded another tree.

And almost tripped over a pair of legs; two pairs to be exact. Once he regained his balance he quickly bent down and checked over the two men. He shook them trying to wake them, but nothing happened. Sighing, he tried to see if they still had a pulse.

Minutes later, he let out the breath he had been holding. They both still were alive, though that's all he could tell right now. He reached for his handset.

"I found them," he said, "Repeat I found them."

He waited for acknowledgement.

"Copy that," a voiced replied. "Condition?"

"Both alive, but unconscious," he reported. "We need medical here right away; they're not getting out of here on their own power."

"Copy that, give me your coordinates and we'll meet you there."

Doing as he was told, he gave his location as best he could tell. Then he threw his backpack off his shoulders and onto the snow in front of him. He pulled out a blanket and wrapped it as best he could around the unconscious men.

From what he could gather from the cold skin and blue tinged lips, these men were suffering from hypothermia. How severe he didn't know. He would have to wait for the medical team to get here to find out.

The wait wasn't as long as he thought it would be. As soon as he caught sight of them in the distance he stood up and started waving his arms around to get their attention.

Minutes later they were swarming the two unconscious men, unloading various supplies and checking vital signs. Shortly after their arrival another team joined them, carrying gurneys.

The two groups worked together quickly to move the two men onto the gurneys and prepare them for the long walk. Blankets were wrapped around the men until all you could see of them were their faces. Oxygen masks were placed over their mouths in an effort to heat them from the inside with warm oxygen.

Bill, the man who had found them first, took up the back end of one of the gurneys. He could only hope that things would improve for these men, but in his knowledge, once a person went unconscious after hypothermia set in, they seldom woke up again.

He could only hope for the hunter's sakes that they would be different.

* * *

He woke with a groan. Everything hurt. _Why did it hurt so much?_

Beneath him, the ground was hard. He opened his eyes and let out a huff of air; it hurt to breath. As soon as the light hit his eyes, he clenched his eyes closed painfully. It was all too bright. Slowly opening them again, he went to raise his left hand to shield his eyes but a sharp pain came instead. He raised his other hand. It obeyed him but it still hurt.

He stayed this way for a few minutes. Then, holding the hand that didn't hurt as much in front of his eyes, he struggled to sit up.

The sudden pain in his chest drove out all the air from his lungs. Now, he knew why it hurt so much to breath.

_Where was he?_

He turned his head to the side to see more of his surroundings. The movement only caused his head to pound even more. He took a deep breath to calm his head only aggravating his chest in the process.

Looking at the sight before him, he saw he was on a snow covered riverbank.

_How had he gotten here?_

He thought hard, but answer came to mind.

_What should he do now?_

That one was somewhat easier to answer. He had to get out of here. Who knew who could find him here; what if they were supernatural?

_Supernatural?_

Where had that crazy thought come from? Why would he think something freaky would suddenly jump out of the nonexistent shadows in broad daylight? Things like that didn't happen; only in made up fairytales and bad sci-fi novels. He must really be out of it.

Getting of here wasn't such a crazy idea though. It might be a little hard to execute, but it was a plan none the less.

He took as deep a breath as he could and struggled to sit up once more, using his right arm to push himself up.

"Ow!" He burst out, using his other arm to catch himself before he was on his back again. He didn't seem to remember the pain his right hand had caused him when he had tried to use it earlier.

Taking a moment to gather himself, he pulled his legs under himself. It was much more difficult than he had thought it would be. His right leg wouldn't fully obey him no matter how hard he tried and it hurt more than anything he could remember ever hurting, short of his pounding head.

Pushing off his hand, he managed to get himself up awkwardly on his left knee. Now was the tricky part, as if everything up till then hadn't been tricky enough.

He would just have to suck it up. That was all there was left to do. Balancing on his left knee, holding his left arm to the ground for balance, he painstakingly shifted his right leg until it was bent in front of him, his foot on the ground, ready to push onto.

With a steely determination, he pushed himself up onto his right leg, almost blacking out twice from the pain, until he could straighten out he left one, transferring his weight onto he other leg as soon as he was stable.

He took a deep breath and winced, raising his right hand to his chest before dropping it in pain.

He wished he had some sort of stick to use as a crutch, but the bare winter wonderland around him was devoid of any such objects. There was a bridge not too far away. Maybe he could flag somebody down and get some help there.

Maybe.

That is, if he made it that far.

* * *

The ambulance sped into the parking lot as fast as it could with all the ice and snow still on the ground. Jumping out of the back, the EMT's pulled out their patient as quickly as was safe. The man in the middle of it all wasn't doing well at all.

Wheeling him into the emergency room, they let the doctors that had practically pounced on them at first sight, take over. The place was pretty empty as far as hospitals went. It was a small town and there had just been a snow storm. There tended to be less injuries and problems because most everyone stayed inside their houses, safe and warm; at least most of the time.

Behind them, another group of EMT's came in through the E.R. doors with another patient. Another group of doctors came forward to claim the patient. The group was smaller. This patient, though still pretty bad off, wasn't in as much danger as the previous patient.

While the second patient had responded well to the ministrations of the EMT's on the way to the hospital, the first patient had not shown any signs of improvement, in fact getting slightly worse as time passed.

An hour later brought a new commotion.

"The helicopter's here," a nurse said, peeking into the examination room. The doctor acknowledged her, watching her disappear, before looking to the nurse next to him.

"Better get him out," he said solemnly.

The nurse nodded and checked the patient over one last time while the doctor moved to the other side of the bed and prepped it for the journey outside. He looked to his nurse and nodded.

Together they worked together to get the patient out of the room, two other nurses joining them once they got out into the hallway.

Outside the helicopter crew met them half way out to the helipad, getting the latest vitals from the doctor. Within minutes, the patient was strapped in and the helicopter a dot in the sky.

* * *

He was walking down a highway as far as he could tell. He had no memory of how he got there or why he was so hurt. He had just been walking when he finally realized that he didn't know where he was going and that his leg hurt really, really bad. His arm hurt too he soon realized. His entire right side hurt to be more exact. More than once he had stumbled and almost found himself kissing the snow beneath him.

He was grateful for the large coat he was wearing. It kept him warm in the cold weather. When he had realized that he was wearing bright blue pajama pants he had been embarrassed at first, then curious. Why would he be out here dressed like this?

He sighed. His chest really hurt; his leg even more so. Maybe it was broken?

_Nah, _he thought. If that was the case, then he wouldn't be able to walk on it, right? Well, he was no doctor; at least he couldn't remember being one.

Around him, the cars going by started to lessen. The morning rush seemed to be over. He yawned. Suddenly he felt tired. As much as he wanted to stop and sit fir a bit, he knew if he sat down, if he could manage it, it would be more than hard to get back up again, if he would even be able to once he got that far.

He knew he was hurt pretty badly, but some reason, his body didn't hurt as much as thought it should. Maybe he was running on adrenaline? Or maybe he really just had a really high threshold for pain. Whatever it was, he was thankful for it. However it seemed to be running out as blackness started to creep in on the edges of his vision.

Stubbornly, he pushed on, willing the darkness to keep its distance. He was not going down that easily.

* * *

He was finally warm. In fact he was getting a little too warm. Opening his eyes, he looked around surprised. He was in a bed, in a hospital. There was no one around him that he could see.

"Hello?" he called out. When no one answered immediately, he took matters into his own hands. He pulled out his hands from under his warm blanket and pushed it off himself. He was just about to pull the I.V. from his hand when a nurse finally walked in.

"Mr. Winchester!" the nurse exclaimed, as soon as she caught sight of what he was doing. "You shouldn't do that."

She rushed forward and dropped her clip board next to his feet and pulled his hands apart.

"I feel fine," he reasoned. Really, he did… mostly. "Where's my son, is he ok?"

Understanding dawned in the nurses eyes.

"He was taken to Spokane soon after you two arrived," she explained.

Panic rose in John's mind.

"Why?" he asked, his voice hard and demanding.

"His injuries were too severe for us to treat," the nurse responded without hesitation.

"What injuries?" John asked confused. Dean didn't have any injuries last he knew, just a bad case of the flu.

The nurse looked conflicted at how much she should reveal.

"He's my son," John pleaded.

The nurse nodded, then spoke.

"He had severe hypothermia," the nurse began. "When the doctors tried to warm him, he went into cardiac arrest and had to be brought back twice."

John's sucked in a breath of air.

"As soon as they brought him back the second time, he showed signs of slipping into a coma," the nurse continued. "We helicoptered him out of here right after that."

John internalized everything he had been told before asking his next question.

"Where exactly did they take him?"

"Spokane Valley Hospital," the nurse replied.

John pulled out his I.V.

"What are you doing?" the nurse said in alarm at his actions, "You need that-

"I need to get to my son," John explained, pushing his blanket completely off his body.

"Mr. Winchester you're suffering from exposure and severe exhaustion," the nurse said, raising her voice. "You need to rest, take it easy. Your son is in good hands."

"I need to know for myself," he said simply, throwing his legs over the side of the bed.

* * *

"Oh my gosh!" a shriek sounded.

He opened his eyes. He was laying face down on the asphalt. Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself up with his hands, the pain in his right arm almost making him loose his strength before he could get his weight off it. How had he hurt it in the first place?

He looked around himself. The sky was darkening around him.

"Are you ok?" a frantic woman asked him, suddenly in his face. "I didn't run you over or anything, did I?"

Confused he looked at the car behind the woman and put it all together. Maybe that's why his arm hurt so much.

"Should I call 911?" the woman asked. She seemed to be made of questions. "Who am I kidding," the woman mumbled. "I am so in trouble."

He frowned. He didn't want this woman to be in trouble because of him.

"No," he spoke. It was a bare whisper. He cleared his throat, wincing as he felt pain in his chest. "Please don't."

The woman looked up from her phone.

"What?" she asked, "But you're hurt."

"I'm fine," he said, trying to stand.

The woman watched him struggle to get his legs to cooperate with disbelief.

"You look like you need a hospital," the woman said uncertainly.

He shook his head.

"I don't want you to get in trouble because of me."

With a grunt he finally managed to stand, albeit unsteadily, but he was up and that was all that mattered to him.

The woman looked conflicted, but nodded in agreement.

"Let me give you a ride," she finally offered.

He smiled a little.

"That would be nice," he replied.

The woman frowned, concerned.

"I really shouldn't be doing this…" she trailed off, looking uncertain.

He looked at her and with all his effort tried to look as helpless and lost as he could, which wasn't very hard considering his circumstances.

It seemed to work as the woman relented and moved to help him around to the passenger side of the car. As she helped him, he looked around at the road. The vehicles that passed by didn't seem to look twice at him and the woman, though they were stopped in the middle of the road.

Strange.

Once they were both in the car and buckled up, the woman started up the car and started to drive.

"Where can I take you?" the woman asked, breaking the silence.

He thought for a moment. He didn't have clue where they were.

"Where are you going?" he countered.

"Spokane," the woman answered.

He didn't have a clue where that was.

"Sounds as good as any place," he said.

The woman nodded.

"I'm Ashley," the woman said. "What's your name?"

He thought again. What _was_ his name?

He looked at the woman who was staring at him expectantly. He couldn't tell her that he didn't remember his own name. She would take him to first hospital she saw, if he said that. He wasn't quite sure why he was against hospitals, but call it instinct. He looked at the woman and spoke the first name he could think of.

"Dean," he said, "My name is Dean."

* * *

Under the cover of dark he moved, carrying a pair of duffle bags from the trunk of a car to the back a large truck. Before he had left the hospital, against doctor's orders, he had gotten in contact with the search and rescue team that had rescued them and got them to bring his stuff to the hospital. They had handed it all over without question. He had made sure that, should they ever land in the wrong hands, the bags wouldn't have anything too incriminating in them. For all appearances, the contents of the bag fit what a typical animal hunter would bring.

At least he had thought ahead about that. It saved him the trouble of having to explain what he really was doing in that forest. The other trouble had not been as easily avoidable. He had forgotten to switch I.D.'s before they left the truck. Both he and Dean had gone out with their true identities stuck in their pockets and now the hospital had records of the two Winchester's. He would have to be more than careful in the future. With everything they did, leaving their true names behind was never a good thing.

Locking up the small white colored car that he had hotwired not too far from the hospital, John went back to his truck. He was thankful that the truck had gone under the radar. The weapons in the truck most definitely would have raised suspicion toward them. That certainly would not have been easy to explain or get out of.

Stepping up into his truck was more of challenge than he would have liked. Like the nurse had said, he needed rest. His body was letting him know that with every movement he made. He just couldn't obey it when his Son was fighting for his life in a city miles away.

He started his truck and drove out onto the road. It was then that he gunned it. He had a son to get to.

* * *

"Why don't you take a nap Dean?" the woman suggested. "We still have about two more hours to go."

He nodded. He was sleepy after all and he trusted this woman enough to not kill him in his sleep.

He leaned back in his seat and turned his toward the window. He couldn't see much outside as they passed; darkness had fallen rapidly since he first got in the car. The woman, Ashley, was nice enough so far. In their conversations, she had told him that she was a high school math teacher in Chester, which was in Spokane Valley just outside of Spokane. She came up to Omak to visit her parents every few weekends and with it being Thanksgiving she had had extra reason to come up this particular weekend. She had admitted guiltily that she had called in a substitute today. She had meant to leave yesterday, but eventually it just became too late to leave.

She was a talker; not that she always was this way. There was something about him, she had told him, that made her just want to open up to him. He had shrugged his shoulders embarrassed at her explanation.

All he could do was listen. He had no memories, no matter how hard he tried to remember. He didn't know what he did in life or how old he was. He didn't know what he liked or hated. He didn't remember his family of if he even had one. It made having a conversation difficult to say the least. So, he had listened and asked her questions, deflecting her whenever she asked him to tell her something about himself.

He felt bad about it. She deserved to know at least something about him, something that could reassure her that he wasn't some homicidal maniac that would kill her when they got to Spokane. But he couldn't do anything about that without outright lying to her. Giving her a fake name was as far as he was willing to go.

He sighed. Maybe he should've gone to a hospital after all. Memory loss usually was a result of a really bad head injury. What if he just dropped dead suddenly because something unseen was going wrong in his head?

Maybe he had been a doctor after all to know such things. He smiled. Even though he didn't remember how he knew what he knew, he still knew something. It was a start.

* * *

He pulled into the motel parking lot. In the midst of everything that had happened today, he had forgotten about his youngest son. Though things weren't exactly peachy between them, his son deserved to know what was going on. He would give him that much.

It had been so tempting to just head straight for Spokane and avoid the delay that stopping in Omak would cause. He had in fact been on his way to do just that, when he remembered Sammy, all alone back in the motel room. It had been the first time he had thought of the boy today. But with everything that had happened he thought he deserved a little slack.

He shut off the engine and pushed open his door. This would be a quick in and out; get Sam and go.

As he stepped away from the truck, he noticed that the lights were out inside the motel room. Sam had probably already gone to bed. He grabbed the room key out of his pocket and plunged it into the key hole. Opening the door, darkness greeted him.

He walked over to the bed where the lamp was and turned on the light. As he stared at the spot where he had thought he would see Sam sleeping, he realized that Sam was not there. He looked around the room. The bathroom door was wide open. There was no trace of Sam anywhere. Of all the times for the boy to not be where he should be.

He rubbed his forehead, frustrated. He was wasting precious time.

He glanced around himself, looking for any clue that Sam might have left behind. On the floor next to the bed, were two bags; Sam's duffle and his backpack. The bed was unmade, a pair of jeans tangled in the melee. The only things missing that he could tell were Sammy's boots and his coat. He didn't see those things anywhere.

Just great, the boy had gone out to who knows where. He had no time to go out and find him.

Turning on his heels, he walked to door thinking cross thoughts about his youngest son. Once outside he didn't waste any time getting into his truck and starting it up.

Sam would be devastated once he found out about Dean. Not being there when his brother probably need him the most would drive him to the depths of guilt. That would be his punishment. That's what he would get for not being where he supposed to be, when he was supposed to be there.

John shook his head. Sam was such a difficult person to deal with. Maybe that was the price John to pay for having such a good son like Dean.

He let that thought sink in as he sped out of the parking lot and onto the open road, destination: Spokane.


	8. Chapter 8 Come undone

**Chapter 8**

**Come undone**

_No more gas in the rig,__  
__can't even get started.__  
__Nothing heard nothing said,__  
__can't even speak about it.__  
__Out my life, out my head,__  
__don't wanna think about it.__  
__Feels like I'm going insane…_

_Disturbia, Rhianna_

* * *

**December 2nd 2000**

The demon watched as his special child stared off in no particular direction. The child was exhausted. It was written all over his face; the tired way his body slumped against the couch, evidence to the world. Sammy boy was weak and vulnerable, just as he liked it.

Everything that had happened so far was pure luck for the demon. At first he had been disappointed about the whole car thing. If the boy died, then there went his fun and his whole plan. But the boy had remarkably survived and lost his memories no less. Ha! It was too good to be true.

Now he could start with a clean slate, figuratively speaking. At least while the amnesia lasted. He could tell that it wasn't permanent for Sam. The hit to the head had been bad, but not that bad. He would have his memories back before he knew it. That's why he had to work fast.

When Sammy boy _did_ get those memories back though, there would be some new ones to deal with and they wouldn't be pretty. Call it a parting gift if everything didn't go as planned: a plan B if you would. But he wasn't giving up on Plan A by any means. He just liked to have all his bases covered.

Ah, he was rambling.

It was time to get back to work. People didn't just kill themselves after all; at least not normally. He reached out and touched the boys mind.

_Time to play._

* * *

"Bobby, it's me John," he said roughly. He was talking on a hospital phone.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?!" Bobby answered.

John looked down at the table. He had been waiting to make this call for hours, but he just couldn't wait any longer, no matter how early it was in the morning.

"No, I…" he paused, reorganizing his thoughts. "I need Sam's cell phone number."

He heard a sound of disbelief on the other end.

"And you're calling me for it why?" he asked irrediculously.

Bobby was a close friend of the family. He was like an uncle to the boys. Ever since they had each gotten phones, Bobby had taken it up to call the boys every once in while to see how they were doing.

"Look Bobby," John explained. "My phone is out of action and I can't remember his number off the top of my head and-"

"You don't know your own kid's number?" Bobby said critically.

"Dean programmed my phone," John replied. "You know how I am with technology. I just see a name when I dial."

There was silence for a minute.

"Is something wrong John?" Bobby finally asked.

John sighed.

"It's a long story, just give me number ok?" he said frustratedly.

"Fine, fine," Bobby replied. "Just asking."

John looked at the ceiling.

"You know I can come out where ever you are, help you out of whatever you've gotten into right?" Bobby said.

"The number?" John asked again, ignoring what Bobby had just said.

"All right you stubborn idjit," Bobby said, a hard edge to his voice. He gave John the number and hung up without saying goodbye.

John removed the phone from his ear and set it on the small table he was sitting at. He stared at the slip of paper that had Sam's phone number on it. Bobby was right. What type of father didn't know their own kid's cell phone number?

He put the phone back to his ear and dialed the number that Bobby had given him. It rang on and on. No one answered. He put the phone down and rubbed his face with both his hands. What was he to do now? Dean was in critical condition; his brother M.I.A. Things had just gone downhill all so suddenly.

His family was falling apart at the seams. He couldn't leave Dean to find Sam. What if something happened to Dean while he was gone? What if Sam didn't want to be found?

Why did that kid have to go about causing more trouble than he was worth?

He sucked in a breath of air. Had he _really_ just thought _that_? Dean would kill him if he knew. He stood up, frustrated, almost knocking over the chair in his rush to stand. Running a hand through his hair, he turned away and started walking. Maybe if he walked fast enough the thoughts in his head would be left behind.

* * *

Sam woke up groggily. Opening his eyes, he looked around. Everything was dark. With a groan he stood up, almost falling twice before catching his balance. In addition to his leg, his chest hurt like crazy along with his arm. It was like he had been thrown into a wall or something. He stumbled around the couch, feeling the wall for a light switch. Once he found one, he flipped it on.

The light revealed a room in chaos. As he studied his surroundings further, he found that he was in the middle of what looked like the after math of a hurricane. Papers were strewn all over the floor, furniture upended and pillows ripped open. Pictures on the wall were hanging uneasily from their nails while other frames were lying on the floor below, glass spilled around them from the impact of hitting the ground.

Strange.

Maybe that's why he hurt so much. Maybe he had been involved in whatever had ransacked the room. Maybe this was his apartment.

Peeking into the kitchen, he saw that the struggle hadn't only taken place in the main room. There were several dishes broken on the floor. A lone drawer stuck out beside the oven. Avoiding the broken plates, he looked into the drawer. It was a knife drawer.

He went back to the other room and down a hallway. He felt for a switch. As he stumbled onward toward an open door at the end of the hall, he couldn't help but notice a bloody hand print that was smeared across the door.

He looked at his hands. They were both free of injury. A dark thought started creeping in on his mind. He hobbled on.

The sight that met him when he finally reached the room at the end of the hall was not a sight for the faint of heart. When he had first entered the room, he had found what he thought was a sleeping person lying on top of the bed.

When the lights had come on, the sight before him completely changed. The bed was covered in red. Blood was spattered on the wall behind the bed. Laying on the bed was a horribly mutilated body. Judging by the long dark hair splayed around the head of the body, it had been a woman, but that was all he could tell. He turned away from the awful sight and assessed the rest of the room.

On the other side of the bed, he found a long knife. It looked like whoever had killed the woman had used it as the weapon of choice.

Glancing at the woman again he felt guilt rise up within. He felt sorry for the woman. No one should have to die that way. He wished he had been there to protect her. He thought back to how he had woken up. Maybe _had_ tried, but had been knocked out before the killer went onto his heinous act.

He left the room and searched the apartment to make sure that the killer wasn't still there. When that was done, he looked for where the killer had gotten in from. A thought tugged at his mind, but he ignored it.

No one had forced their way in. The windows were all locked and closed, the door bolted shut. The thought became more persistent. As he sat down on the couch heavily, the thought became known.

_Had he killed the woman?_

He looked at himself again. He had no blood on himself. But he was pretty beat up. Judging by the appearance of the living room, a enormous struggle had taken place. Maybe he and the woman had fought, causing his injuries, before he had finished her off.

He shook his head. He wasn't a murder. He didn't have a murderous thought in his head. In fact, there weren't many thoughts in his head at all and the ones that were there were confused and lost. He had no clue why he was here, or what he was doing here. He didn't remember the woman at all, and worst of all, he had no clue who he was.

Just what had happened here?

While he was curious for the answers to his questions, he knew he would get nowhere by sticking around here. As quickly as he could manage, he went back to the main room, grabbed a large coat and took the boots that were next to it.

The sun had barely started to rise.

* * *

John stood by the window looking out at the city beyond. Dean had been put in a semi private room, which meant that he shared the room with another patient. Only a curtain separated the two beds.

Currently, Dean was not in the room. He had been wheeled out for some tests and an x-ray. At any moment he would return. John had taken the nurses word that Dean would be back in no more than 30 minutes to heart.

As he stared out at the busy city, his thoughts drifted to his youngest. Where was he? Was he ok? Dean would not be happy if he woke up without Sam at his side. Now that he had some quiet time to think about everything that had happened in the past few days, he couldn't deny the growing guilt he was starting to feel.

He had been hard on the kid these past few weeks. In general he always was. But to go out on a hunt without letting his son know anything about it? He put himself in Sam's place. How would he have felt watching his dad and brother head out into a brewing storm without know where they were going or when they would be back? And to be left so alone? How could he have been so callous to do that to his own son?

He needed to find him

The TV in the other half of the room suddenly caught his attention. It was the local afternoon news. He had been listening in on it partially while he organized his thoughts. The anchorwoman was talking about a murder.

"_Police are investigating a tragic fire that claimed the life of a local woman. Police say that Ashley Tolman's mutilated body was discovered by her fiancé who had come to take her to work. The victim had been in Omak visiting family for the thanksgiving holiday and had just driven back to Spokane the previous night. "_

"_Police say that it was after the victims fiancé had discovered the body that the fire started. According to the fiancé, the victim's body somehow rose to the ceiling before flames surrounded and consumed it. The victim's fiancé was only barely able to escape the flames."_

"_The police are treating the case as a suspicious death due to the circumstances surrounding it. The victim's fiancé has been taken in for further questioning. He is their only suspect at this point due to his strange retelling of events."_

John froze as he heard the part about the woman having burned on the ceiling while the fiancé watched. It couldn't be, could it? How did he know where they were?

Things had changed now. Sam would understand. This was his chance to finally rid the world of the demon that had taken his Mary.

Within minutes a doctor and nurse came into the room, wheeling a still unconscious Dean between them. While the nurse got Dean settled, the doctor updated John on Dean's condition.

"His system is very weak right now due to his organs partially shutting down yesterday," the doctor started. "But we've managed to stop that. He has a mild case of pneumonia right now; we've started him on antibiotics. With everything that has happened to him, we're pretty lucky that we don't have to have him on a ventilator."

John nodded, grateful.

"So he's getting better?" he asked hopefully.

The doctor nodded.

"Barring any complications, he should be fine in no time," the doctor answered, "It will take a while though before he's back at the top of his game."

"How long will it be before he wakes up?" John asked.

The doctor looked at Dean then back at John.

"He was in a light coma when he arrived. We put him in a deeper medically induced coma to make sure he gets the rest he needs without having any stress on his body," the doctor explained.

John sighed.

"How long will he stay that way?"

"For next few days at least," he answered. "Once we have his pneumonia under control and if his body keeps improving like it has," he paused to think, "Probably on Sunday or Monday we'll take him out of the coma."

John nodded.

"Thanks doc."

The doctor nodded and left the room with the nurse.

Now alone with his son, John stood and stared. Dean looked so young just lying there with all the tubes and wires surrounding him. He thought of the demon. He had to get it for all their sakes.

But he couldn't do it alone. He would need backup, experienced backup.

Another phone call was in order.

* * *

Sam walked listlessly down the street as he had been doing since the morning. He couldn't get the image of the dead woman out of his head. He feared, though he couldn't remember doing anything of the like, that he had killed that woman. Call it a gut feeling.

He didn't have any clue where he was. He supposed he was walking on one of the main streets though, judging by the amount of cars that passed him by.

In his efforts to distance himself from the dead woman's house, he had crossed a highway and walked a maze of small roads to get to where he was now. The whole place seemed to be made up of quaint houses and Christmas trees. Snow covered every front lawn he had seen so far.

Thankfully, the sidewalks were relatively free of snow and ice. He didn't know if he would have been able to make it as far as he did with his body the way it was if he had had to deal with those hazards..

Right now, what he really needed was a good rest. He reexamined his surroundings. To his left there was a parking lot. It was change in scenery. He was so used to seeing nothing but rows and rows of houses. On the other side of the parking lot, was an open field filled with huge Christmas tree look-a-like trees. Further in, there was a set of playground equipment. He concluded that it must be a park.

He pushed onward, stepping off the sidewalk and into the parking lot. Once in the park, he looked around for a nice spot to sit that wouldn't be too visible from the road.

A short walk around the trees later, he found a nice thick tree that didn't have too much snow around its trunk. Sitting himself down, he leaned against the tree and laid his head back. He closed his eyes.

Sleep sounded so good right now.

* * *

John put the phone down. It was second time he had tried to call the man. Either he was busy on some new hunt or he just didn't want to talk to him. Putting it back to his ear, he dialed again and left a short message, before putting the phone down for the last time.

He was itching to get out and find the demon, but he knew it would be suicide to go up against it just by himself. If it was only himself, he would go in a heartbeat, but he had Dean and Sam to think about.

He walked down the hall wearily.

Just as he was about to turn into Dean's room, there was a commotion in the room across the hall. A person ran out screaming for a doctor. Suddenly, a group of nurses and a doctor appeared down the hall.

John turned away from the commotion. It was too close to home for him to stomach watching. If things had been different, and there was no guarantee that Dean was out of the woods yet, he could've been the one facing that scene, all alone. He suddenly felt very lonely.

Where ever Sam was, he hoped he was ok.

* * *

Sam woke to the feeling that someone was shaking him. Suddenly he was waving his arms about, trying to fight off whomever it was that had invaded his personal space.

"Whoa!" a voice exclaimed. "Calm down! I'm not gonna hurt you!"

Sam finally opened his eyes and froze. It was a police officer. He sucked in a breath of air.

"Look kid," the officer started. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't dead, ok?"

Sam nodded, still cautious.

"You ok?" the officer asked at the silence from Sam.

Sam knew that a nod wouldn't cut it this time.

"Yeah," he said hesitantly.

"Cause if you're not, I could take you some place," the officer offered. "Someplace warm and-"

"I'm fine," Sam said interrupting. It was time to improvise. "Really, I just was tired of class. Needed someplace quiet to think."

The cop nodded.

"Don't let me catch you like this again?" the cop finally said. "Almost gave this old officer a heart attack thinking I found a dead body."

Sam looked at his feet.

"Sorry."

The officer stood up.

"Take care of yourself son," he smiled and then walked away.

Sam frowned as he watched the man disappear out of view. Those words; he had heard them before; it was just on the edge of his memory. If he tried hard enough, he could remember another man, one who meant a lot to him, saying those words; only it had been said differently.

He shook his head. He was getting a headache trying to remember. He pushed himself up off the ground, using the tree for support. He had to get out of here. No way would that cop let him go so easily if he saw him again.

He started walking.

As he wove through the trees on his way to the street he thought of what his future had in store. How could he move forward when he had no clue what lay in his past?

He kept walking.

After all, if you didn't know where you were going, it didn't much matter what path you took did it?

* * *

He got up from the chair he had been sitting in for the past few hours. He had just woken up from a nap that he had told himself would only last an hour. It had lasted much more.

He stretched his arms over his head and looked at Dean. Nothing had changed.

He walked to the TV in the corner of the room and turned it on. Their neighbors had long ago turned off their TV. He changed channels until he found something at least a little bit worthwhile then went back to his chair and sat down. He had barely gotten into the movie he was watching when a nurse pulled the curtain back.

"We have someone on the phone who wants to talk to you Mr. Winchester," the nurse informed.

Curious, John got up and followed her out the room and down the hall to where the phone was. As soon as she left him, he picked up the phone. He answered hesitantly.

"Who is this?" he started.

A grunt on the other end, told him all he needed to know.

"Bobby?" he asked. "Where have you been?"

"Where have I been?" Bobby replied affronted. "I would ask the same of you."

John was confused.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"John, I talked to Pastor Jim," Bobby said.

"Pastor Jim?" John said confused. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you have been treating Sam horribly the past few weeks and then you call me asking for his number," Bobby explained. "John, where is Sam right now?"

John paused shocked.

"John," Bobby pressed. "Where is Sam?"

"You called Pastor Jim because I called you for Sam's number?" John said, avoiding the question.

There was a moment of silence.

"I heard it in your voice," Bobby said."I knew something was wrong with Sam. You wouldn't tell me, so I figured Jim would know. Apparently, Sam has called him more than enough times in the past few weeks just so he talk to someone who would listen."

John was silently fuming. How dare Bobby go behind his back in such a manner.

"I know what you're thinking John," Bobby said, "But Sam is like family to me, I just worry about him sometimes."

John sighed. He couldn't fault the man for that, but at the same time, he couldn't let the conversation stay on its current path.

"The demon is here Bobby," John said changing the subject abruptly, "In Spokane."

There was a pause.

"The demon," Bobby responded, "You mean _the_ demon, yellow eyes himself?"

John nodded even though he knew Bobby wouldn't be able to see it.

"It looks like it," he answered.

"And you want my help," Bobby stated.

"I've been calling you since this afternoon," John said.

He heard a sigh on the other end.

"Where in Spokane are you?" he asked finally.

John sighed. This would go over well.

"I'm at Spokane Valley hospital," he answered.

"Hospital?" Bobby asked right away then he paused seeming to put things together. "Its Dean isn't it?" he finally said. "And Sam's not with you is he?"

He could never fool Bobby.

"How long do you think you'll take?" John asked.

He waited while Bobby thought for a minute.

"I'll be there by lunch time tomorrow," Bobby finally answered.

"See you then," John replied.

* * *

His eyes were void of all emotion as he entered the house. Walking stealthily into the kitchen, he searched the drawers until he found a suitable knife. Then he went down the hall into the bedroom to wait.

Whoever entered the bedroom next would not be leaving it alive; or dead for that matter. Sam sat on the bed patiently, knife at the ready. He already did this once. That was for practice.

This was for fun.


	9. Chapter 9 In the shadows

Chapter 9

In the shadows

_Can't escape this hell__  
__So many times I've tried__  
__But I'm still caged inside__  
__Somebody get me through this nightmare__  
__I can't control myself_

_Animal I have become, Three days grace_

* * *

December 3rd 2000

_Who are you, how did you get in here?!_

_What are you doing?!_

_Why are you hurting me?_

Sam jerked awake. He looked around himself. All was silent. He could have sworn he heard voices. With a groan he pushed himself up. From what he could tell in the darkness he had fallen asleep leaning against a wall. He walked around the edge of the room, feeling the walls blindly for the light switch.

When he found it, he switched it on. Looking at the sight before him, he gagged. He wished he hadn't found the light switch.

On the bed lay a woman. Her blood soaked the sheets she lay on.

Sam looked at the floor where he had been sitting. Within arm's reach was a large bloody knife.

The woman had a vicious gaping wound across her stomach. It had been caused by a knife. He stared at the scene before him in shock. No one else was around. The house was silent. It was obvious.

_He had killed the woman._

Yet he couldn't remember having done such a thing. His breaths started to quicken as his heart started to race. What was going on?

Outside, he could hear the sound of a car pulling up to the house. Now what?

He stumbled from the room and pushed himself down the hall, his painful leg hindering his progress. He heard the sound of a car door slamming closed. His breaths started coming quicker as panic set in. He rushed through the kitchen and toward the sliding doors he found there. Fumbling with the locking mechanism, he struggled to push it open, slipping through as soon as it was open wide enough for him to squeeze on through. Shutting it quickly and as quietly as he could manage, he ran to the edge of the yard, being sure to keep out of view from the siding door.

It was a struggle. He got himself half way over the fence before losing his balance, his left pant leg getting caught on a nail. The resulting yank he felt when his decent abruptly stopped almost made him scream out in pain. Now upside down, he gingerly reached up to his leg and pulled his pant leg free. Now free of any restraint, his body crumpled to the ground in a heap.

Adrenaline coursing through his body, he quickly pushed himself up, ignoring the pain he felt, and stumbled forward into a major road. Luckily it was still dark. Not many people were out at this time in the morning. He drunkenly crossed the road, before collapsing behind a particularly large spruce tree, its long branches hiding him from the view of the road.

* * *

He pulled up to his house wearily. It had been a long shift and now he was ready for some food and sleep. He thought of his wife and the meal she would no doubt have waiting for him. It was a pretty solitary life being a police officer. He was hardly ever home. But his wife was so very understanding and had supported him and his work steadfastly for many years.

His shift had been as normal as it always was. He roamed the streets making sure everything was in order. The only trouble he had found, and it hadn't been much, was a small group of kids skateboarding around an empty parking lot past curfew. It had been at that same park where he had found that seeping kid in the bright blue pajama pants. Kids these days; he just didn't get their skateboards and fashion sense.

He stepped out of his car and closed the door. He noticed that there were no lights on in the house. His wife was always up waiting for him whenever he got home. There was never a time when she forgot, even when she was sick. Something had to be wrong.

He rushed up to the front door and unlocked it. Opening it, he stepped inside. All was dark, except for the faint light coming from the hall. Maybe he was just over reacting.

He walked through the living room, past the kitchen and down the hall. The light was coming from the bedroom he and his wife shared.

"Megan," He said, pulling his jacket off. "I'm home."

There was no reply. He walked on. When he finally reached the room and took in the sight within, his mouth opened in a silent scream. His wife was on the ceiling, a bloody slash across her stomach bleeding freely.

Suddenly, the entire ceiling burst into flames.

"Nooooo!" the police officer yelled. He ran into the room, his hands reaching up to his wife but there was nothing he could do but watch. Minutes later he stumbled out of the room and pulled out his radio.

He called for help before leaving the house coughing from smoke inhalation.

* * *

_Where was Bobby?_

He was getting anxious now. What if the demon had already moved on? But then again, why attack this particular city unless the demon meant to get his attention? The demon had to know he was there. He cursed his failure at keeping their identities hidden. Who knew how demons found the people they were looking for, but having their names out there couldn't have done them any good.

He turned back to the TV. Ever since the attack yesterday, John had taken up the habit of watching every news cast he could. They had just come back from a commercial break.

"_This just in: Police are saying that one of their own was attacked early this morning by an unknown assailant. According to police, a Chester City police officer was returning home after his shift, when he found his wife stuck to their bedroom ceiling. Minutes after the discovery, the ceiling burst into flames. Shorty afterward, the police officer was able to call for help."_

"_Police are saying that this case is more than likely connected to a similar case that occurred yesterday morning. In this incident, a man found his fiancé in a similar position before she too was burned on the ceiling."_

"_Stay tuned for continued coverage-"_

"Mr. Winchester," a nurse said, pushing aside the curtain. "I have a Bobby Singer here who says he's here to see you and your son."

John nodded and stood up. Just outside of the room Bobby stood. They waited for the nurse to walk away before either of them spoke.

"There's been another attack," John said heavily.

"Where?" Bobby asked.

"Chester City," John answered. "It's only a couple of miles south of here."

"The other attack?" Bobby asked.

"Same place," John said. "A mile south of the other one."

Bobby sighed.

"What's your plan?" he asked.

"I say we talk to people in the area, see if they saw anything out of the ordinary," John replied. "The usual."

Bobby nodded. He looked tired.

"What about Sam?" he asked finally.

John knew that sooner or later his friend would bring up the kid.

"What about him?" he asked.

"Do you know where he is?" Bobby persisted.

John looked at his feet.

"Aren't you gonna find him?" Bobby asked. "Do you want him out there alone with his demon out there?"

John looked up.

"I don't want to leave Dean-" he started, but bobby interrupted.

"But you're willing to leave him to hunt a demon?!" Bobby said angrily. "Are you saying that this demon means more to you than your own flesh and blood?"

John looked around himself, avoiding Bobby's accusing stare.

"What would Mary think of this?" Bobby asked.

John directed an angry stare at Bobby.

"I'll never know because that demon took her away from me!" he said angrily.

Passing nurses were starting to stare.

Bobby threw his hands in the air.

"Going after this demon won't bring her back," Bobby said, sure to keep his voice down. "And abandoning your son will only drive him out of your life forever."

Bobby shook his head.

"Then you'll not only have lost a wife, but a son too," Bobby said. "Real good way to honor her memory."

John ran a frustrated hand through his hair. All was silent between the two. It seemed that Bobby's words had finally gotten through to him.

Bobby watched as John seemed to ready himself to speak before looking away. He did this several times before finally speaking.

"What do I do?" John said quietly. "I don't…I don't know where to start."

Bobby thought for a minute.

"Go back to…Omak was it? Go there, and don't come back till you find him."

John shook his head.

"The demon-"

"Can wait," Bobby said. "I'll do the investigating."

John nodded reluctantly.

"I'll call you with anything I find," Bobby promised.

John rubbed the back of neck.

"I don't have my charger," he said. "That's why I had to call you on the hospital phone."

Bobby rolled his eyes.

"Then you get back there and charge your dang phone so I'll be able to get a hold of you."

John nodded and then paused.

"I can't leave Dean, what if-"

"You never told me what happened on that hunt," Bobby said crossing his arms.

John explained everything starting with how he left for a hunt when he knew a storm was brewing, ending with how Dean was in a medically induced coma and wouldn't wake for a couple of days at least.

Bobby raised his eyebrows.

"Well there you go," he said. "That just means you'll have to find Sam before then doesn't it?"

John tilted his head thinking and then nodded.

Bobby looked like he wanted to say more after hearing everything that John had said, but instead he took a deep breath.

"You go," Bobby said. "I'll take care of the doctors."

John nodded again and started walking. He had only gotten a few feet away when he turned around.

"Uh, Bobby?" he said uncertainly.

Bobby was just about to go into Dean's room.

"Yeah?" he answered.

"Thanks," John said.

Bobby only tipped his head before disappearing into the room.

* * *

Sam sat up. He rubbed his head, only to find bits of bark and tree in his hair. Brushing the debris from his hair, he peered around the tree that he had apparently fallen asleep behind. There was a rather large road in front of him, probably some sort of state highway.

He leaned back on the tree. It wasn't very comfortable, but he did it anyway. The sound of the cars in the background kept him on edge. He remembered running across the road frantically, but he couldn't exactly remember what he was running from.

_Silly boy._

Sam turned around, looking side to side, trying to find the owner of the voice he had just heard. There was nobody there. He was sure he had heard a voice.

He stood up. He suddenly couldn't stand to hide behind the tree any longer. Walking out from behind the tree he saw the road was surrounded by a wide berth of snow covered land. Trees dotted the landscape.

He started walking, putting his hands in his pockets as he trudged through the snow. As the minutes passed, he stopped thinking about the passing cars. Instead he focused on the newly revealed memory in his mind of a different time, a different life.

In his memory there was no snow. He was walking through a forest. Everything was dark. He held a gun in his hands. When he looked to his side, he noticed that he was not alone. Walking beside him, gun in hand, was another person. But before he could see who was with him, the memory ended. That was it.

He sighed, a small smile in his face. At least in his memories he wasn't alone anymore.

* * *

John pulled into the parking lot anxiously. Parking next to the Impala, he quickly got out of the truck and went to the door of the motel room. As he pulled the key out of his pocket he prayed that Sam was inside.

Practically throwing the door open, he was disappointed to find the room empty. Sighing sadly, he closed the door behind him. He walked over to the untouched bed and sat down next to the night stand. Only then did he notice the two cell phones laying there. He hadn't noticed them before when he was last here. He had to admit he hadn't been thinking to straight then.

He reached for them and held them. One was Dean's and the other Sam's. Now he knew why Sam wasn't answering. Something definitely was wrong. Both he and Dean, especially Dean, had harped to Sam that he always had to have his phone with him. No. Matter. What. He unplugged the phones from their chargers and put them in his coat pocket.

Pulling his own phone from his other pocket, he plugged it one of the chargers, pulling the other one from the wall and putting it in Sam's duffel.

He turned his focus to the bags at his feet. Pulling Sam's backpack up, he set it on the bed next to his lap and opened it. Inside were all of Sam's school books and a notebook. He pulled it out. He knew that Sam liked to keep all his notes in one notebook. Of the times he had seen the notebook out on the bed, he had been impressed by how organized the writing was.

Just as he had seen before, inside were neatly written notes organized according to date then class. He read through the dates looking for the last entry.

Once he turned to it, he was more than a little on edge. Monday; the last time he had written in the notebook was Monday. He looked through the notes noticing that a complete days notes were not present. It was as if had skipped out on classes, leaving early. Strange, Sam never did that unless on certain occasions when he went with him and Dean on a hunt and that was rare. They usually only brought him on hunts during breaks and holidays.

He closed the notebook and placed it back in the backpack. Setting the bag back on the ground beside the bed, he pulled the duffel onto the bed next to him. A search through the bag didn't give him any clues; he never really did pay attention to what Sam wore. Dean would know more about that.

He stood up and went to straighten the covers in the other bed. Pulling the pair of jeans out of the tangle he noticed the bulge in the back pocket.

It was Sam's wallet.

He looked through it. Sam's I.D., his school I.D. and some money were safety nestled within. As if the previous evidence wasn't enough to scream trouble, this only amplified the urgency. He put the wallet and the pants into the duffle and pulled the covers straight on the bed. He went to the bath room to see if anything was amiss there. All he could find was an almost empty shampoo bottle, some soap, and an empty can of shaving cream. Old towels hung off the towel rack. He gathered the bottles and threw them into the trash.

He went back into the main room. Opening the fridge, he was surprised to find a full apple pie on the top shelf. Where had Sam gotten a pie? Below the pie were remnants of a rotisserie chicken. There was still quite a bit of meat left. It was obvious the food had been in there a few days longer than was healthy. He took out the food, the dumped it in the trash. Already in the trash was a potato salad container.

He thought hard about what the food could mean. He knew it hadn't been there before. They hadn't gone shopping last week at all. That meant Sam had to have gotten the food himself. But where did the money come from? He knew he hadn't left any money with Sam for food. He had not been thinking of details like that when he had left so hurriedly a week before.

How careless and heartless he must have seemed to Sam.

He searched the room one last time for anything he might have missed before he grabbed Sam's things and left the room. He would be back for his phone later so he could let it have a chance to charge.

Depositing Sam's things in the passenger seat, John started up the truck and pulled out of the parking lot and out onto Main Street.

Minutes later he was shutting off the engine in the school parking lot. There were only a few cars left in the area. School had obviously already let out.

Walking into the school reminded him of his own high school days. He put those thoughts away with a shake of his head. Now wasn't the time to get lost in old memories of days long gone.

Stepping into the administration office, he was thankful to find that someone was still there. He stood at the front counter patiently until the secretary beyond finished with the copy machine.

"How can I help you?" the woman asked. She looked to be in her forties and had short brown hair.

"I'm Sam Winchester's father," John started, but he didn't get the chance to go any further.

"We've been trying to reach you since Tuesday Mr. Winchester," the woman stated pulling out a folder from under the desk. "Your son hasn't been in class since mid-day Monday."

John looked at the folder she had opened on the table between them. It was Sam's school file.

"Can I look at that?" he asked, pointing to the file.

"Sure," she turned the file around to face him. "Has Sam been sick?" she questioned.

John shook his head.

As he read the file, he couldn't help but be impressed. He knew his son was smart, but straight A's and a perfect GPA? His son was a genius!

"Mr. Winchester, if Sam is not sick then why hasn't he been in school?" She asked.

John closed the file and handed it back to her.

"I'm trying to find out myself," he muttered

The woman looked at him confused. John figured an explanation would have to be given in order to avoid trouble with the school.

"My oldest son has been in the hospital since Tuesday in Spokane and I've been staying with him," John said. "I came back here to get Sam and so far I haven't been able to find him."

"Oh my Mr. Winchester." The woman exclaimed. "Do you want me to call the police?"

John shook his head.

"I still have other places to look before I do that," he explained.

"Well good luck Mr. Winchester," the woman said. "Sam's a good boy."

John sighed. Sam was definitely a good boy and so much more.

* * *

Bobby paced the small hospital room anxiously. He had made some calls and done some research. It wasn't looking good at all.

He glanced at Dean. When he awoke, there was gonna be hell to pay. Bobby hoped that John was prepared for that. Outside, the sun was setting. He hoped that John would be back soon and most of all; he hoped that Sam would be with him.

* * *

It was with a heavy heart that John got in his truck for the drive back to Spokane. He had just checked out of the motel. In his search of the town, he had found that there was no trace of Sam having been here since Monday. There was no use spending money on an empty room, especially since they didn't have that much money to be throwing away in the first place.

He remembered the kids that he had spoken to. While they did not know Sam very well, they had given him valuable information about Sam. It seemed that Sam had been very distracted on Monday, even falling asleep a few times. That was not Sam-like behavior. One girl told him she had seen Sam walk out of school during lunch.

John was sad that his son didn't seem to have many friends even though these kids seemed more than willing to get to know him. He figured it was a side effect of them moving around so much. How could you invest in friends when you knew you would probably never see them again because you would be leaving in a month?

He shook his head. Mary would be appalled at him for putting their sons through such a life.

He thought of what he had learned at the grocery store. Sam had come there right after he had gotten out of school on that fateful day before thanksgiving. According to the cashier, Sam had come through the checkout stand with all the makings of a pretty good thanksgiving dinner. That had explained the food.

Where had Sam gotten the money for it though?

He figured that Sam had wanted to eat the food as a family on thanksgiving. Sammy always was the one who lived for traditional family holidays like thanksgiving and Christmas. He always forced them into some sort of celebration whether they wanted it or not. He had to admit though, that at the end of those little celebrations, the family always was better off because of them.

Sammy had gone to all that trouble only to have them leave him behind all alone. Sammy's happy holiday had been ruined before he had even had the chance to bring it up. No wonder there was still food left in the fridge. It also explained the pie. Dean loved pie. It would all have reminded him too much of the words they had left behind in their wake when he and Dean had left Sam.

A lone tear fell down his cheek. He had hurt Sam. There was no doubt about it. Looking at the past few weeks and how he had treated Sam, he felt so guilty and disgusted with himself. The way he had treated Sam for applying to college had basically sent the message that he didn't care about his son if his son didn't care about hunting.

Now Sam was somewhere out there. Had he left on his own, unable to take the way he and Dean had treated him? He couldn't blame Sam if that was it.

He had to make this better. He had to let Sam know that he cared, that he was wrong, and that he was sorry. Problem was, if Sam had left on his own then he would be hard to find. Even though he didn't enjoy the hunt as much as he and Dean did, Sam still was one hell of a hunter. Add that to his genius brain and finding him would be downright hopeless.

But what if Sam had been kidnapped?

What if he was been hurt?

He put his foot down harder on the gas pedal. The faster he got to Spokane the faster he could put a plan together to find his son. The demon was secondary if anything at all. Sam was number one right now, as he always should have been.

* * *

Sam sat on the ground, his arms wrapped around his knees which were bent tight against his chest. Night had fallen hours ago. Sam was alone. He was back in the park that the cop had found him in earlier in the day.

At the thought of the cop, he started rocking back and forth. The woman he had killed this morning was the officer's wife. He had seen a picture of them together on the wall in that bedroom.

Why had he killed the woman? What had she done to him?

He thought of the police man and how distraught he must be feeling at the loss of his wife. Why had he done that to that man?

_It's what he deserved._

Sam turned behind him. The voice was back. He took a deep breath and started humming. No one deserved having their loved one murdered.

_He would have taken you away, caged you up._

Sam started humming louder. Maybe if he pretended like the voice didn't exist, maybe it would go away.

* * *

He watched the boy happily. The boy was miserable and crazed looking, sitting there all alone humming to himself with just his thoughts for company. If only Sam knew that he was never alone; that he, yellow eyes himself, was always there just a few feet away, then maybe the boy wouldn't sit there so open and weak looking.

Ever since that first night when he had slipped into the boy's dreams, he had always been there. He was never far. That day when the boy had been found by that woman on the highway, he had nudged Sam's thoughts into refusing the trip to the hospital. The boy had been seconds away from accepting the offer, but that would have put an early end to his plans. He had known at the time that the boy's father had just woken up in the hospital. Had Sam shown up at the hospital, then Sam would have been under the protection of his father once again. Now that just wouldn't do. He had been waiting for an opportunity like this for so long.

It wasn't very often that the mighty John Winchester made a mistake like this after all.

On the highway, he had further touched the minds of the drivers passing by, urging them to drive on and to forget what they had seen. That was why no other drivers had stopped to help when Sam had lain on the side of the highway after being hit by the drunk driver or when he collapsed on the pavement hours later.

The woman that had stopped had been chosen by him to help Sam. She had a caring heart, which had made her susceptible to the prompts he had planted in her mind to help Sam. She had been all too easy to manipulate. Killing her had been another story. She had put up quite the fight. If it had been another time, he would've considered making a deal with her. She was feisty like Sam's mother had been. But alas, there was no going back now.

Now the police man's wife, she had been an easy kill, almost boring. She was weak and hadn't resisted at all. Oh sure, she had yelled but that had been easy enough to silence.

He thought of all the other weak people that he had touched the minds of to make them forget about seeing Sam running from the scenes of his crimes. In these past few days, the humans he had controlled had only served to cement the feeing in his mind that humans were a weak species. But there were a few gems here and there, Sam being one of the brightest. That was why he had gone as far as to partially heal the boy. It wasn't one of his advertised powers but he was able to heal certain people to a certain extent. Being one his "special" children, Sam was such a person. Besides, Sam wouldn't be any use to him crippled.

Right now, everything that he was putting the boy through was merely a test, to see what he was capable of. So far, Sam had not risen to his expectations. He was resisting every urge the demon panted in his mind. Worst thing was, the boy didn't even seem to be aware that he was resisting anything. It seemed to be a natural defense mechanism of his. Sam really was special as the demon was finding out more and more every day.

He had resorted to outright possession to get his way. It was low of him, but oh so very tempting. If he didn't have other plans for the boy, Sam would be an ideal candidate for possession. But alas, he could have his fun for a while at least.

His little test drive had only proved to him the immense potential that Sam had within him. Now if only he could get Sam to give into that power.

He watched as the boy turned suddenly as if he heard something. The demon smirked. It was just a cat.

The boy was on edge. It wouldn't be long now before the boy got his memories back and went running to find his family. He had to stop that.

What he was planning next would surely put a stop to that.

He bid a silent farewell to the boy. John Winchester had just pulled into the hospital parking lot a few miles over.

He and John had some bonding to do.


	10. Chapter 10 Disturbia

**I'm so excited for this chapter! There's a whole lot of angst involved for everyone here. Plus it's my longest chapter ever, 21 pages in word! Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 10**

**Disturbia**

*****

_When it's good, then it's good, it's so good, 'till it goes bad  
Till you're trying to find the you that you once had  
I have heard myself cry  
Never again  
Broken down in agony  
And just trying to find a friend…_

_Sober, Pink_

* * *

**December 4****th**** 2000**

Sam sat rocking back and forth, his knees pulled in close to chest, arms wrapped securely around them. He was humming slightly as he had all night. Through the dim light provided by a nearby street light, Sam could see his breath form little white clouds as he exhaled.

He was scared.

The voice, as he called it, had left a while ago. He had been alone ever since, well as alone as he could be with the thoughts and memories drifting through his mind. The plea's of the woman he had killed shouted at random, accusing in nature. The cries of another woman also pulled at his mind.

He had killed two women. Who knows how many other people he had killed with his faulty memory the way it was. It tore him up inside that he had killed those people. Feelings of enjoyment and fulfillment lingered in his mind as he thought of what it must have been like killing those women. The feelings felt foreign to him, like it wasn't him that had experienced those feelings, but how could he explain that? How could he feel that way without actually feeling that way?

He heard the crunch of snow. Instantly he tensed up. He listened quietly, praying for once that it was just his mind this time. But the sound came again, followed by more steps getting louder, closer.

He looked around himself for the source of the noise. Soon the source became obvious.

A tall man shrouded in shadows approached him. He sat frozen as the man walked up to his spot. Suddenly a bright light was shining in his face. Sam raised his hand to block the light.

"There you are," a gruff voice spoke. "You little ingrate."

Sam knew that voice. It was so familiar.

"What do you think are doing out here all alone?" the man said. "You think you're better off without us?"

Sam didn't see another person around, but he couldn't be sure.

"Look at you Sam, the man said. "So weak and venerable; it's a wonder we kept you around for so long."

The man reached down and grabbed Sam pulling him up from the ground and pinning him against the tree. Sam struggled weakly knowing his attacker was much stronger than he was at this moment.

"You probably thought that killing those women would impress me and make me take you back," the voice spat into his face. The light was still blinding him. "You are anything but a Winchester."

So his name was Sam Winchester if this man was to be believed.

"Who are you?" Sam said unevenly. The man had his hand pressed against his chest and it hurt.

The man laughed.

"You don't know who I am?" he said disbelievingly. "You really don't know?"

Sam didn't say anything.

"You can't honestly tell me that you don't remember your own father?" the man said.

Sam's mind drew a blank.

"Do you?!" the man said pressing harder on his chest.

Sam winced and shook his head. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say anymore.

"You're hurting me," he rasped out.

The man seemed to smirk.

"Oh look at me hurting little baby Sam," the man finally said. He let go of Sam and laughed as he collapsed to ground in a heap.

If this was his father he certainly understood why he had run away, if that is, he had run away.

"Please just leave me alone," Sam said brokenly. "I'm sorry."

He didn't even know what he was apologizing for, but he felt it was the only way to appease the man who claimed to be his father.

"I'm sorry."

The man removed the light from his face and shined it on his own like someone who was about to tell a scary story. The man bent down to his level.

"You should be Sam," the man said. Sam took in the face before him, memorizing every detail. "Because of you, my wife, your mother, died. You took her away from us. If you had never existed then me and your brother would have had a better life."

Sam shook his head.

"That's not true," he said forlornly. Something about what the man had said resonated deep within his heart. As he had heard those words a little piece of him had died. He couldn't explain it.

"I see it in your eyes," the man said. "You know it's true."

Sam shook his head hopelessly.

"What do you want?" he asked weakly.

The man smiled evilly.

"I thought you would never ask," he reached behind his back and pulled out a gun. "I want to see you die."

Sam's eyes widened in the darkness.

"I can't stand to see you live when your mother is dead," the man said without remorse.

Sam's heart started to race.

"But if I'm your son-" he started to reason.

"You're no son of mine," the man said standing back and raising his gun to Sam's face. The other hand held his flashlight pointing at the ground. The man seemed to pause for a moment.

_Fight him!_

Sam took in a sharp breath. The voice was back.

_Use your powers!_

Powers? What Powers?

As he watched his father, he saw his father's hand waver in the dim light.

_Don't think, just do!_

He looked at his father, again. The man seemed to stand up straighter suddenly. It was now or never.

Breathing deeply Sam envisioned the man flying away from him.

A shot rang widely in the air as the man suddenly was lifted backwards, flying through the air until he hit a tree and slumped to the ground.

Stunned, Sam stood up and walked over other man.

Had he really done that?

Shaking his head, he jumped into action. Who knew how long the man would be out, if he wasnt already dead. He wasn't about to take any chances. Reaching down, he took the man's gun and his flash light.

Stowing the gun in his pocket, he turned the flash light off and fled the scene. The farther he could get from this man the better.

* * *

Bobby was through with pacing now. After a night spent half awake half asleep waiting for John to return, all he had eyes for was a nice hot cup of coffee. After a short trip to the cafeteria, he had two steaming cups in his hands.

He watched the sun rise from the window while he sipped his coffee. The other cup was sitting on the table next to Dean. It was for John.

He had tried calling the other man intermittently throughout the night to see how his search was going, but had gotten no answer. He was starting to get worried.

Maybe it was all for nothing. Maybe John had found Sam and was just taking a little extra time to have a heart to heart with the boy.

Who was he kidding? John wouldn't want to away with Dean the way he was. John would be here as soon as he could. He took hold of that thought and sipped his coffee.

* * *

John opened his eyes slowly. _Man his head hurt._ He frowned in confusion as he took in his surroundings. He was sitting in his truck, his seatbelt still on. Outside, the morning light was bathing the hospital parking lot in light.

Had he spent the whole night in his truck?

Racking his memory, he remembered driving into the parking lot late last night, but beyond reaching down to unfasten his seat belt, he couldn't remember anything more.

Shaking his head, he winced as the movement only intensified the pounding in his head. Reaching down he undid his seatbelt and then opened his door. As he stepped out he couldn't help but groan as his body made its soreness known.

Closing the door of the truck, he rubbed his back gingerly as he walked toward the hospital. Just what had happened last night?

He pulled out his phone from his pocket and saw that he had missed 6 calls, all of them from Bobby. Surely his phone would have woken him up? He walked on, entering an elevator and then got off on Dean's floor. The hallway was bustling with doctors making their morning rounds. He walked into Dean's room.

As soon as he passed through the curtain he caught sight of an anxious looking Bobby.

"Is he with you?' Bobby asked right away. Bobby _had_ told him not to come back unless he had Sam with him. "What happened to you?"

John frowned, that was sudden.

"No, I didn't find him," he answered. "And what do you mean what happened to me?"

Bobby looked him up and down.

"You looked like you've been thrown around like a baseball," he stated. "Where were you?"

John moved past Bobby and took a seat, groaning as he sat down. He could really use some ibuprofen right now.

"I went back to Omak and searched the motel," John answered. "Then I went to the school and searched around town."

"You didn't find him," Bobby said. It was more of a statement than anything else.

John shook his head.

"The last time anyone saw him was Monday afternoon," he explained, "The trail goes cold after that."

"So how did you end up looking like you lost a bar fight?" Bobby asked.

John raised his eyebrows.

"Beats me," he said.

Bobby rolled his eyes at John inadvertent choice of words.

"It's strange though," John started.

"What?" Bobby asked.

"I remember driving into the parking lot here last night," John explained. "But then the next thing I know I'm waking up and its morning."

Bobby paused to think.

"I feel like I haven't slept though," John said. "If anything, I feel like I've been up all night."

"Ya sure look like it," Bobby said.

John went quiet as he struggled to remember something, anything from last night. All he could come up with was dimly lighted snow covered grass and a bunch of trees. He had passed by that scene many time yesterday.

"I don't know Bobby," John finally said. "Something doesn't mesh here, but I can't put it together."

He looked at Bobby who was deep in thought. He had a sinking feeling that this was more serious than just falling asleep in his truck.

* * *

When Sam woke up, he was in unfamiliar territory. That seemed to be the norm these days. This morning, he found himself inside a small room. He was sitting up in a soft bed surrounded by warm blankets. It was a nice change from the cold streets of wherever he was.

There was a knock on his door. Then, with a creek it opened.

"Hey there," a kindly looking old man greeted. "I thought you might be awake by now."

Sam watched the man warily. After the events of last night, he was wary of anyone who approached him.

The man offered him a warm cup of steaming something.

"It's cocoa," he explained. "I thought it might warm you up."

Sam shook his head. What if the man poisoned it?

"I haven't poisoned it if that's what you're thinking," the man said disarmingly. It was weird how the man seemed to know everything he was thinking. "You look like you could use a good cup of cocoa."

Sam sighed. He couldn't remember eating anything for a while now. He frowned. When was the last time he had eaten? Suddenly hungry, he couldn't resist reaching for the cup and eagerly drinking it up.

"If you come to the kitchen, I've got plenty more where that came from," the man said with a smile.

Sam looked down at his blankets. He didn't mean to look so starved by drinking the cocoa so fast.

"Don't worry about it son," the old man said standing up. "The name's Ed."

Sam pushed himself off the bed, his eyes never leaving the man.

"What's your name?" The man, Ed, asked.

Sam hesitated. He knew his name now, but should he give it to the man?

"It's alright," Ed said. "You can trust me."

Sam watched the man. He wanted to trust the man, but at the same time, there was something off about him.

"Sam," he gave in, "It's Sam."

"Well Sam," Ed said happily. "Let's get you fed."

Ed left the room. With nothing else to do, Sam followed. However, he couldn't ignore the feeling that something was not right about this whole situation.

With a sigh, he too left the room.

* * *

John and Bobby were both anxiously watching the TV by the time noon came around. They were waiting to see if the yellow eyed demon had attacked again. The two previous attacks had both happened early in the morning and were first reported on the afternoon news.

"_And that's you afternoon news, for Friday December 4__th__, have a wonderful day, and don't forget to tune in at 5 and 6 for your evening dose of the news on 5."_

John looked to Bobby. There had been no report of any new murder or fire. A robbery, yes. A car accident, yes. But no murder; no fire

"You don't think…he left…do you?" John asked.

Bobby sighed heavily.

"It would seem strange for him to some here so close to you, just to kill two people and leave," Bobby said. "But he's a demon; they don't make sense by nature."

John nodded.

"Did you find any connections between the two victims?" John asked.

Bobby shook his head.

"Nothing obvious," he answered. "She was a twenty something high school math teacher. He was a fifty something police officer. Other than living in the same vicinity, nothing connects them."

John was quiet for a while. His thoughts turned to Sam. Earlier, he had Bobby had talked about what they were going to do about finding him, but they had come up with nothing but to alert the other hunters they knew to keep an eye out for Sam on their journeys. It was all they could do right now with no leads to help them. He felt useless and worst of all, he missed his son.

It had taken him losing his son for him to miss the kid. He felt the familiar guilt seep in and he let it come. He deserved it.

* * *

"You must be hungry," the old man Ed said as he pulled out ingredients to make sandwiches from the fridge. "You slept right through breakfast and I was afraid you would sleep through lunch too."

Sam was quiet from his spot at the table.

"You really are a quiet one aren't you," Ed said with a smile. He handed Sam a butter knife and motioned for him to help himself.

Sam took the knife and started making a sandwich. He really was hungry. Across from him, the old man took a seat.

"So tell me about yourself Sam," Ed said.

Sam looked up from the piece of bread in his hand and looked warily at the man.

"I'd rather not," he answered turning back to the bread in his hand. He grabbed some meat and lettuce then grabbed a tomato and started slicing it.

The old man nodded in understanding.

"If I was running from a gun toting man I'd be a little weary of strangers too," Ed said.

Sam looked up sharply.

"How do you know that?" he asked.

The man picked up two pieces of bread and grabbed his knife.

"I heard a gunshot and went out to see what it was," he said grabbing the mayo. "I looked down the street and saw you running. You tripped and didn't get up. I came and helped you. You were out for the count, so I brought you back here and put you to bed."

Sam watched the man as he spoke. He looked every bit the kindly old man, yet there was something there he couldn't explain. Maybe he was just looking for the evil in everyone now that the evil in his father had been so blatantly revealed to him.

He still couldn't remember anything about the man who claimed to be his father other than what he had seen last night, but he knew the truth in his words that he was in fact his father.

It seemed the old man Ed had said everything he was going to say. They spent the rest of lunch sitting in silence eating their sandwiches

* * *

John looked at Bobby as they approached the house. Bobby nodded back. They were ready.

Knocking at the door, they waited until a young man opened it.

"What do you want?" he asked somewhat weary.

John took the lead and spoke first.

"If you don't mind, we would like to ask you a few questions about your …fiancé," John said.

The man narrowed his eyes.

"You don't look like the police or F.B.I." he stated, suspiciously.

Bobby spoke next.

"Well, we're not exactly your typical type of law enforcement."

Minutes later, the three men were seated comfortably in the living room. Both John and Bobby had agreed that honesty was the best way in this particular case to get any useful information.

"So you hunt the things that go bump in the night?" the man asked disbelievingly, "And you believe that Ashley was killed by something…supernatural?"

John nodded.

"My wife was killed the same way," he explained.

The man frowned and looked at the carpet, thinking.

"So what do you want to know?" he eventually asked.

"Was she acting strange in any way in the days leading up to her death?" Bobby asked.

The man shook his head.

"She was normal, happy," he explained. "We had thanksgiving dinner with her family, everything was good."

Bobby nodded.

"Were you with her the entire time?" John asked.

Again, the man shook his head.

"I left on Friday so I could visit my family," he explained. "She was supposed to come back on Sunday, but by the time she got around to leaving just too late for her to drive and she ended up coming back the next night."

Bobby asked the next question.

"Did she drive back alone?"

The man seemed to think for am moment.

"No," he said thinking hard. "She said she had someone with her."

"She called you before she left?" John asked. They were onto something, he knew it.

"No," the man said. "She called me after she picked him up.; wanted me to know that I shouldn't wait up for her. She said she would be taking longer than usual. She was worried about the guy, said she'd run over him or something like that."

Bobby frowned confused.

"Did she take him to a hospital?" he asked.

The man shook his head.

"She said he didn't want to go, said he was fine and all that," the man responded. "You don't think he killed her do you?"

"Did you tell the police about him?" John asked.

"Yeah," he said. "But they told me there was no evidence of any one having been with her that night. The people the police talked to all said she came home alone."

"Where did she drop him off?" Bobby asked.

"She said she was gonna drop him off somewhere once she got here," the man answered.

John asked the next question.

"Did she say what the man looked like?"

The man thought for a moment.

"She did say he was young," he answered. "Said he looked pretty beat up and depressed."

John frowned.

"Did she say what his name was?"

The man nodded.

"She said his name was Dean."

John looked at Bobby.

"I think we have everything we need," Bobby said standing up. John stood up too and shook the man's hand.

"If we find anything, we'll le you know," John said.

The man nodded and showed them out.

Once outside, they went to John's truck and got in before speaking.

"Bobby, the last time Sam was seen was on Monday," John said in a rush. "This woman left that night. You don't think…" he trailed off.

"Using the name Dean?" Bobby said skeptically.

"She said he was hurt, that she had almost run him over Bobby," John exclaimed. "Maybe he wasn't thinking straight and gave her the first name he could think of?"

"Oh I don't know John," Bobby said shaking his head. "I don't want you to get your hopes up."

John sighed.

"I know what you're saying bobby, but what if this is real? What if this really is Sam?"

Bobby nodded reluctantly.

"Let's talk to the officer before we get any further caught up in this theory ok?" he asked.

John nodded and started the trucks engine.

* * *

Sam was now sitting in the old man's living room. The couch was comfy enough, but he couldn't seem to get comfortable. His instincts were on edge more than ever. He couldn't explain it.

He thought back to last night. Everything was still fresh in his mind. Every word was there in his mind playing back viciously. What father would wish his son had never been born? And why did it hurt so much to hear those words? Surely, there wasn't any truth to them?

He remembered how he had left the man lying there defenseless and unconscious. Come to think of it, where was his coat? He had stowed the man's gun in his pocket. It sure would go a step further in making him feel safer in his current surroundings.

"Sir," Sam called out. The man had gone into the kitchen to brew a cup of coffee for himself.

Ed came back into the room, holding a steaming cup.

"Call me Ed," he said. "Sir makes me sound old."

Sam raised his eyebrow but didn't comment.

"Where is my coat?" he asked.

The man set his mug on the coffee table and went back toward the kitchen.

"You're not thinking of leaving so soon are you?" he asked, momentarily disappearing from view.

Sam watched the man reappear with his coat.

"N sir-Ed," he replied. "I just-"

The man pulled out the gun from Sam's coat pocket.

"You just wanted this didn't you?" the man said slyly.

Sam's breath caught in his throat as he watched the man walk over to the recliner across from him, the gun in one hand, his coat in the other.

"When you tripped, this fell out of your pocket," he said.

Sam didn't say anything as the man played with the gun, his finger ghosting across the trigger.

"I saw more than you think," Ed stated. "I saw you and that man arguing."

Sam looked around himself for his boots. He didn't like where this was going.

"I saw how that man suddenly went flying in the air into that tree," Ed said leaning forward.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sam said standing up. "I really should go."

The slid the gun on the table.

"I can help you," Ed said.

Sam looked at the man distrustfully.

"I'm different too," he said.

Sam shook his head and took the gun from the table.

"Thanks for everything but I should-"

The man threw the coat to Sam, but before Sam could catch it, it stopped mid air.

"I can help you master your special abilities," the man said cryptically.

Sam stared at the coat then at the man.

"You're more powerful than you know," the man said.

"How do you know that?" Sam said defensively.

"Because I am not who I seem to be," Ed answered.

"Then who are you really?" Sam asked, he was itching to get out of here, but his curiosity held him in place.

"Someone who knows your true destiny," the man continued.

Sam grabbed his coat out of the air and put it on.

"And what's that?" he asked frustratedly. This man was talking in riddles and he didn't like it one bit.

"You're a leader Sam," the man said leaning forward in his chair. "You're meant to bring change to this world; why waste that potential running from your past? Running from your father?"

This man spoke as if he knew everything about Sam.

"How do you know all of this?" Sam asked taking a step back.

"I can help you find your true potential," Ed said ignoring his question. "I can help you show your dad that you were meant to be born, that your mother died because she knew that without her sacrifice that you would never be able to become the great leader that this world needs."

Sam tilted his head distrustfully and took another step back.

"I can help you get your memories back," the man added.

"I…I-"

"It's ok," the man said. "Go. Think about it."

Sam took a deep breath and another step back.

"When you're ready I'll be at the park," the man said. "You know where."

Sam couldn't take it anymore, he turned abruptly on his heal and practically fled the house.

* * *

The sun was approaching the mountain peaks in the distance as they drove the short distance to where the police officer lived. The connections that Bobby had called on had been able to give them the addresses they needed with no problem.

Now convincing an officer of the law about the supernatural was another thing entirely. Just in case, they would be going in with fake names. Goodness knows they couldn't afford to get tangled up with the law now.

Once they knocked at the door, they waited patiently. They almost thought no one was home when they heard a shout from behind the door.

"What do you want?" the muffled voice yelled out.

John shared a glance with bobby before speaking.

"We want to talk to you about the day your wife died," John replied.

"Go away!" the man yelled back. "I don't want to talk about it!"

Bobby sighed.

"We might know who was behind her death." He said. "We just want to ask you a few questions."

All was silent. Bobby looked at John. It was a dead end. They were just about to turn around and leave when the door opened a crack.

"You really think you might know who did it?" the officer asked.

John turned back, Bobby right beside him.

"Yes, we do," He answered. "Can we come inside?"

The man seemed to think for a moment before opening his door wider to let them in. He led them to the kitchen where he took a seat at the table. John and Bobby sat across from him to make sure he had space.

"So who do you think did it?" the officer asked.

John looked to bobby who gave the officer the run down on the supernatural world and his wife's case in particular. Surprisingly the officer accepted everything Bobby said without argument.

"What happened to my wife wasn't normal," the man explained. "I've been racking my brain trying to come up with something to explain it and nothing fits."

The man ran a hand through what was left of his graying hair.

"This…explains it better than anything I could ever com e up with," He said with a heavy sigh. "So you think that the demon, or whatever it is, that killed your wife, killed mine?"

John nodded.

"But why?" the officer asked.

"That's what we're trying to figure out," John said.

"Did you come across anything strange in your work in the past few days?" Bobby asked.

The man shook his head.

"Nope, everything as business as usual, nothing out of the ordinary," he answered.

John decided to take another route.

"Tell me about the day leading up to when you found your wife," John asked.

The officer paused to think, and then spoke.

"Well I work the evening shift," he started. "I woke up in the afternoon. I ate with my wife before leaving for my shift. It was pretty normal. I came home around 5 in the morning and there she was on the ceiling."

"Tell me about your shift, what did you do, who did you talk to…" John persisted.

"I don't know," he said. "Nothing really stands out. I did my usual patrol of the city, locked up the school, found a kid sleeping at the park, busted some skateboarders…the usual."

"Kids usually sleep at the park?" Bobby said skeptically, "At this time of the year?"

John looked strangely at Bobby. What did a kid at the park have to do with anything?

"Well I guess it's not completely normal," the man agreed. "Kid said he needed a break from school to think. He looked exhausted."

Bobby nodded.

"What did this kid look like?" Bobby asked.

_What was Bobby going after?_ John thought.

The man tilted his head trying to remember.

"I guess he had longish dark hair, wearing a big coat," the man smiled slightly. "He was wearing the brightest blue pajama pants, seemed sad though."

John frowned. Bright blue pajama pants? He vaguely remembered Sam having a pair like that. Could it be?

"Where is this park that you found him at?" John asked.

"It's just east of here a couple blocks down," he said. "You don't think this kid has anything to do with my wife do you? Cause he looked like he couldn't have hurt a fly."

Bobby and John stood up.

"You can never be too sure," Bobby said extending a hand to the man. They shook hands.

"Thanks," John said similarly extending a hand, "We'll let you know if we find anything more."

The officer shook John's hand and nodded.

Outside, the two hunters didn't waste any time getting into the truck.

"Now what do you think?" John asked Bobby.

Bobby shook his head.

"It seems like Sam's in the middle of all this," he said reluctantly. He paused as if considering his words carefully. "John, why did you ever leave that boy alone?"

John turned his key in the ignition, starting the truck up.

"It's complicated Bobby," John answered.

"How complicated could it really be," Bobby said looking at John with sad eyes. "Are you sorry at all for what you did?"

John kept his eyes on the road.

"More than you will ever know Bobby."

* * *

In the quiet of the setting sun Sam heard the loud rumble of an engine. Up ahead he saw a large dark truck cross the street. There was something about that truck that seemed so familiar. He walked on, filing away that thought for later.

The words of the old man played over and over in his mind alongside the words of his father. It was so frustrating to run into people who knew more about him than he did. He wished that he could have all his memories. Then maybe he would be better able to understand what everyone was trying to tell him.

Then maybe again, what if finding those memories only led to a world of more hurt and pain? It wasn't something he could just put a lid on and forget again.

He sighed. Without his memories he felt like his life was without purpose, out of control. How could he regain that sense of control, when he didn't have the whole story of his life to draw from? He thought of what the man had said about getting his memories back. It was tempting.

He was so lost right now. He didn't know what to think with everything that had happened; the not being able to remember, the murders, his father, the old man.

What was he supposed to do?

The sun was setting fast in the sky. He turned a corner. Up ahead, he could see the park where his father had almost killed him; the park where the old man had said to meet at when he was ready.

He didn't know if it was the right thing. His heart told him otherwise, but he had no other options before him. He didn't want to be alone anymore.

He walked toward the park, ready to meet his destiny.

* * *

John walked around the small park as if in a daze. It all looked so familiar.

"Bobby," John said suddenly. "I think I've been here before."

Bobby looked sideways at John.

"What do you mean?" Bobby asked.

"I don't know…" he trailed off. He started walking off the sidewalk and into the snow.

"Where are you going John?" Bobby asked following him close behind.

"Here, Bobby, I was here."

He motioned to a large tree ahead of them. Not to far off there was an old man sitting at a park bench. He waved. John ignored him.

As they finally were in front of the tree, John froze.

"What is it?" Bobby asked.

"Sammy was here," he said pointing at the ground. "And I was here…with a gun."

John's eyes widened as he turned to face Bobby.

"What have I done Bobby? What have I done?!" he said frantically.

"Explain yourself ya idjit," Bobby said, his harsh words only thinly disguising the concern he felt toward his friend.

"I was here last night," John said sagging against the tree. "I remember it Bobby."

He took a deep breath and stood up taller.

"I had my gun pointed at him," he stared at the spot where Sam had sat. "He was so terrified, Bobby."

"Why did I do that Bobby?" John asked his voice hitching. "Why don't I remember more?"

Bobby placed both his hands on Johns shoulder steadying the other man.

"You have to keep it together John," he said. "We'll figure this out."

John suddenly went still as he caught sight of something over Bobby's shoulder.

Bobby let go of John and turned around to see what had gotten his attention.

It was Sam. And he was looking right at them.

"Sammy!" John said stumbling forward.

"Wait!" Bobby said, jumping into action and pulling John from going any further. Though only a short distance away. Bobby could see the absolute terror on Sam's face.

Suddenly, Sam starting running.

Bobby couldn't hold John anymore. John went rushing after him. Bobby could only follow.

Bobby watched as Sam ran not directly away from them but toward the old man sitting on the park bench.

Strange.

"Sammy!" John called out again, the pain in his voice evident to all who hear.

Sam seemed so be talking to the man in a rapid rush of words.

Bobby and John had almost reached the pair when not 10 feet away, they suddenly found themselves frozen in place. No matter how much they struggled, they couldn't seem to move. What was going on?

The old man stood up from the bench.

"This must be your father Sam," the man said. "Am I correct?"

Sam nodded.

The man walked up to John.

"This is the man who tried to kill you last night?" he said turned back to Sam who nodded once again.

Tears started to fall down John's face.

"Look at him," the old man said. "He's crying; probably mad at himself for not being able to kill you like he wanted to."

Sam walked up to John and stared into his face intently. John wanted nothing more than to reach out and envelop his youngest in a bone crushing hug and tell him he was sorry for everything.

He wanted nothing more than to take away that perpetually depressed expression from Sam's face and help put back his bright smile back on his face. But all he could do was silently cry and watch as his son sadly stared at him.

"Why do you hate me so much?" Sam's broken voice said, tearing apart John's heart in the process.

When John didn't reply, a light in Sam's eyes seemed to go out.

John realized that it was hope. Hope had left Sam. He struggled with all his might to speak, to move, to do something, but he remained as frozen as ever.

"Maybe it's just as well you can't remember him," the old man said.

John looked on confused. If he could have, he would be frowning. What did the man mean by that?

Sam only nodded.

"Can we leave now?" he said forlornly.

The old man nodded, then turned one last time at John and Bobby, allowing his eyes to flash yellow for a moment before turning away and joining Sam.

John could only watch on in horror as Sam and the newly revealed Azazel walked toward the parking lot, got into an older model Cadillac, and drove away.


	11. Chapter 11 Dead wrong

**Hey everyone! Got another chapter for you all, enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 11**

**Dead wrong**

*****

_Why does it take so much to bring me to my knees  
Why does it take so much pain for me to see  
If strength is only found when I am on my knees  
why is it so hard to show I am weak…_

_Song for the broken, Barlow Girls_

* * *

**December 5****th**** 2000**

He walked the halls, nodding at nurses as he passed by. They didn't suspect a thing and why should they? For all intents and purposes he was Dr. James H. Peterson. From the graying hair to the white lab coat, he looked every bit the part he was asked to play.

It wasn't very often that he was contracted for his particular services. In fact, this was the first time. But as always, he was up for anything that gave him a purpose, and something to do of course. The reward though, might have done a bit more in persuading him to take the job. He had been offered wealth beyond imagine by the demon should he successfully complete the task given him.

He opened the door. Inside he was met with silence. Closing the door behind him, he scrutinized the person in the hospital bed before him. It was a woman. He moved onto the other side of the curtain.

Bingo.

There he was in all his unconscious glory. As the demon had promised, there were no relatives around the man. He was alone. The doctor looked out the window. There was still few hours of darkness left before the sun rose. That gave him the chance to be really thorough in his "research."

He placed a hand on the side of the man's face and closed his eyes. It was time to get to work.

* * *

In the growing light of morning, John and Bobby made their way through the hospital parking lot. After last night, Bobby had insisted on finding a motel and getting some sleep. Though not much sleep had happened, Bobby had reasoned that they couldn't just walk into a hospital with John being an emotional wreck. They had needed time to process everything.

Now John was simply quiet. He still looked like he was on edge and would break apart at the slightest touch, but quiet was better than ranting out in anger. John had practically destroyed everything that wasn't bolted down in the motel room they had rented. Bobby had wisely given John his space and not said anything about it at the time.

Silently, they walked side by side through the maze of halls and elevators until they were on Dean's floor. As they walked toward the room, they saw a man in a hoody with his hood pulled over his head rush out of Dean's room away from them.

John could've sworn, even without seeing his face, that that was Dean. He looked to be the same size and carried himself the same way. John ran forward, practically throwing the door open.

Bobby rushed past Dean's room to try and catch the person.

Inside the room, John pushed aside the curtain that separated him from Dean and was relieved to see Dean lying in his bed just as he had left him the previous day.

Minutes later Bobby returned, slightly out of the breath. He shook his head, silently telling John that he had lost the man.

"Christo," John said looking at Bobby worriedly.

They had to consider everything strange that happened around them a threat now. They couldn't even trust each other anymore with the demon seemingly willing to possess John to get what he wanted. They had agreed that if they ever split up, they would say the safe word whenever they saw each other again.

"Christo," Bobby repeated back to John.

Now they had this strange visitor to worry about. They couldn't do much with just a hunch though. That didn't mean they would let it happen again.

John busied himself with looking Dean over, not that there was much he find, him not being a doctor. If that man had done something, then they would most likely not know about it until Dean reacted to it or doctors found it on one of their tests.

"John," Bobby said, standing by the window. "Relax. If that guy did anything, if he even was here doing something, you're not gonna be the one to find it."

John nodded and left the room.

Minutes later, John returned with the doctor at his heels.

"I'll let security know about the man," the doctor assured John. "We'll just do some basic tests, some blood work and then we'll bring him back."

John nodded.

"Thanks."

Nurses appeared behind the doctor and helped him wheel Dean away.

John turned to Bobby.

"I just want to be sure," he explained.

Bobby nodded.

It didn't hurt to be too sure with everything they were dealing with.

* * *

Sam sat with his back against the wall. He was sitting in the middle of a bed that had been pushed against the wall. He had hardly slept the whole night, the events of last night playing on his mind constantly. There was something about it all that didn't match up for him, but he couldn't tell what it was.

The room he was in was very sparse. Save for the bed, there was a small fridge on the other side of the room. There were two doors that led out of the room. One led to a room that held a simple toilet and sink, the other, to a wide hallway. He had not tried to leave the room in all his time here. His thoughts kept him frozen in his bed. Throughout the night, thoughts and memories had swirled in his head from the past. They had mixed with the memories he held of the past few days making it hard for him to focus on remembering the things from his past floating around in his mind.

He turned his head sharply as the door suddenly opened.

It was the old man, Ed.

"Come," he said. "I'll give you the grand tour."

Sam didn't really want to leave the confines of the room, but he had a feeling the man wouldn't stand for that. He stood up.

Ed had come by the room earlier carrying a pile of clothes that he had told him to change into. At least now he wouldn't be walking around in his pajamas. He now wore a pair of loose fitting jeans and a dark t- shirt with an over sized black hoody over it.

Following the man out of the room, he had to admit, that he was a bit curious about what else occupied the building he now lived in.

Not far down the hall from the room they had just left, Ed pulled open a door and motioned for Sam to enter.

Inside, Sam was surprised to find himself in a large warehouse like room. There were rows of shelves loaded with what looked many different kinds of weapons. Sam walked to the closest shelf. It held dozens of hand guns. Over on the next shelf were shotguns; the list went on and on.

Sam turned back to Ed.

"Why do you have all of this?" he asked motioning to all the weapons. It was as if the man was preparing for war.

"War is at hand," the man answered.

Sam looked at the man sideways. It really was uncanny how Ed seemed to know what he was thinking.

"You are going to lead the army, Sam," Ed said with a smile. "With your leadership, we will change humanity forever."

Sam looked at the man uncertainly. The way he had worded his exchange was making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge.

"It's time to meet the army, Sam," the man said walking over to where Sam stood and placing an arm around his shoulders. He led Sam out of the room and to a door across the hall. Inside the room were rows and rows of people, standing in perfect lines, perfectly still. It was as if they were waiting for orders.

All eyes were on Ed as he began to speak to the crowd.

"I bring you your new leader," Ed boomed, raising his arms toward Sam.

San, shocked, just stood there while dozens of eyes scrutinized him from head to toe.

"Today will just be a taste of what will await you once we complete our mission," Ed said.

Sam looked at Ed confused. How was he going to lead a group of people when he had clue what the mission was? Why was he even being forced into such a role in the first place?

What had he gotten himself into?

As the people filed out of the door and headed to the weapon room, Ed approached Sam.

"Destiny awaits," he said cryptically.

Sam wasn't so sure anymore. More and more, the whole situation was wearing on his conscience. This felt all wrong.

Before he knew it, he was the all alone in the room, the last person having closed the door behind themselves.

Suddenly the light went out in the room and he was no more.

* * *

When the doctor came back an hour later, he not only brought Dean back into the room, but also some good news. They had found nothing suspicious in his system and nothing out of the ordinary physically. Whoever had come in the room had not poisoned Dean or anything of the like. That was the first part of the good news.

The second part was even better.

Dean had improved enough to be taken out of the coma. He would wake within the next 24hours.

John had breathed a long sigh of relief at the news. They were in desperate need of any good news and this by far was more than good.

Now John and Bobby sat beside Dean watching a movie on the TV. Every few minutes they would sneak glances at Dean waiting to catch the first sign that he was waking up, but so far, he hadn't so much as twitched.

On the TV a spectacular explosion had just occurred. Suddenly, the image was replaced by an anchor woman with urgent breaking news.

"_Downtown Spokane is currently under siege by as many as 50 or more gunmen. Just minutes ago, gun shots broke out at various locations downtown. We were able to get some footage from our traffic cameras before they were shot in the melee. Take a look."_

Scratchy footage of one of the main roads came up on the screen of people suddenly ducking for cover as shots rang out and screams filled the air. Cars swerved in the road as drivers were hit. Then the camera went fuzzy as it was hit, eventually cutting to black.

The woman came back on the screen.

"_We'll keep you posted on this urgent story as we get more information."_

The screen returned to the movie they had been watching.

John looked at Bobby.

Was it a coincidence?

In his luck, coincidences didn't just happen. The demon had Sam. Now he was shooting up downtown Spokane.

Bobby looked at John confused.

"Bobby there's something I haven't told you about Sam…"

* * *

When Sam opened his eyes again, the room was filled with people again as it had been before. What had he missed? The last time he could remember, the light had just gone out and the room was empty.

The people were now looking at him with a gaze of respect. He looked back at the crowd somewhat confused. Didn't you have to earn respect? Why were these people looking at him like that all of a sudden?

With murmur the crowd suddenly parted. From within the crowd, two people emerged carrying a struggling man. His face was concealed by the shadows of the hood of his hoody that he was wearing over his head. With a barely seen movement of the hand, one of the people holding the struggling man pulled the hood off the man's head roughly. The man looked around the room until his eyes found Sam's.

Sam knew this man. The way his heart constricted at the sight told him that.

"Sammy?" the man said his voice raspy and harsh. "Where have you been?!" he asked urgently.

Ed appeared suddenly next to Sam.

"He's been with me," Ed said. As he looked at Ed he could have sworn that his flashed yellow for the briefest of moments before returning to their normal brown. It had happened so quickly. Maybe it was simply a trick of the light. Sam turned back to the man in the middle of the crowd.

"Who are you?" he asked.

The man seemed shocked at the question.

"How do you not…what are you..." he stuttered, "It's me, Dean, your brother."

Sam looked at the man blankly. Brother?

The memory of the scene in the forest came back to his mind, only this time, the man who was next to him held the face of the man in the crowd. In his memory, the man beside him smiled at him. The smile was filled with warmth and love.

Suddenly his hand was grabbed and a cold object placed in it, breaking him from his thoughts. I was a gun.

"You have to shoot this man," Ed said coldly.

Sam looked at the gun in his hand and then at the man in the crowd who had said he was his brother. He thought of the memory and smile within. He wanted to feel that warmth and love again.

"I can't," he mumbled.

"What was that?" Ed asked harshly.

"Traitor!" Dean shouted.

Sam looked up from the gun. Dean now was looking at him with hate in his eyes. He looked at Ed, who didn't look to happy with him either.

Why did he always seem to make everyone around him angry? A sudden memory of a different argument came to his mind.

"_You cause enough trouble for this family."_

"Why are you here Sam?" Dean yelled out. "Why are you with these demons?"

"_Everything's about you, is that what you think?!"_

Sam started to shake. The emotions from his memories and the current situation were combining, fighting for dominance, assaulting his mind.

"Did you kill all those innocent people?" Dean pushed further. "Did you do it because of me and dad?"

"_It never crossed your mind what it would do to me and Dean did it?"_

Wayward tears starting falling down his cheeks.

"Stop," he begged, "Please stop."

"Why did you abandon us for them," Dean said, hurt lacing his voice. He pointed at Ed. "Why did you run away to him?"

"_Aren't we enough?" _

Suddenly a gunshot ran out.

All was quiet in the room, then…

"Why Sam?" Dean said brokenly. The people holding him let him drop to the ground.

Sam could only stare in shock at the growing blood stain on Dean's chest. He looked at the Gun that he was now holding in his hands, his finger still on the trigger. He let it drop to the ground. What had he done?

He had only wanted the voices to stop. He hadn't meant to pull the trigger.

The people started leaving the room.

Sam rushed to Dean's side.

"Dean!" he said, shaking his brother shoulders.

Weakly Dean turned his head to Sam.

"Go to Hell," he spat.

"No, Dean it's not…I didn't," Sam stuttered. "It was an accident, I didn't mean it!"

But it was too late for apologies. Dean had already faded away, he eyes staring at nothing.

"Oh Dean!" Sam cried mournfully into Dean's unmoving chest.

He sat there sobbing into Dean for the next few minutes until he felt eyes boring into the back of his head. Looking up from Dean, he saw it was Ed. He didn't look too pleased.

"Leave," he ordered.

Sam could tell he meant business when the man's eyes not only flashed yellow but stayed yellow. Reluctantly, he pushed himself away from Dean and stood up. With one last sorrowful glance, Sam walked out of the room.

The man with yellows eyes bent down and pulled out a gun from his back pocket.

"Cut the act," he said annoyed.

As soon as he said the words, Dean's eyes popped open. He groaned as he sat up and put a hand to his chest.

"Am I done?" Dean said hopefully.

The demon tilted his head. He was not pleased.

"You failed shape shifter," he stated.

The Dean twin mirrored the demon and tilted his head.

"Aw come on," he reasoned. "You have to admit that was pretty good acting; Oscar worthy I would say."

The demon shook his head and revealed the gun in his hand. He pointed it directly at the shape shifter.

The Dean look alike raised his hands in surrender.

"This isn't part of the deal," he complained.

"You failing wasn't part of the deal," the demon reasoned.

"I can't help what the kid thinks," Dean said. "That's completely out of my control!"

The demon shook his head and stood up.

"Regardless of that," he put his finger on the trigger. "You failed."

He pulled the trigger. A lone silver bullet left the gun.

The shape shifter didn't even have time to say anything more before he slumped to the ground dead before he even hit the ground.

* * *

"_Police say the death tolls have risen to 50 within the last hour. The injured number in the hundreds. Local hospitals are filling up fast, officials say."_

"_No reason has been found for the senseless shootings. Police say that no one has come forward to claim responsibility. No people were arrested due to the confusion surrounding the area in the aftermath. According to eye witness accounts, the shooters did not look out of the ordinary. Some accounts have suggested that the only distinguishing features that the shooters had were completely black eyes, but this has not been confirmed by police."_

Bobby looked a John as if to blame him for the attacks.

John couldn't help but agree.

Ever since he had told Bobby about the truth of the night that Mary had died, Bobby had stopped talking to him.

In their conversation he had told Bobby how the yellow eyed demon had been after Sam that night. Not Mary. He told of his theory that the demon had plans to for Sam to become evil. He didn't know to what purpose, or why, but he just knew that Sam had been set apart by the demon for something big in the future.

Bobby had blown up at him right then and there. He had questioned why he, John, had treated Sam so badly back in Omak and why most of all, he had left the boy alone when he knew that this demon was out for his son.

John had to agree. It only added to the guilt he felt. As more of his sins toward Sam as a father became known, he was starting to believe that there was nothing he could do to make it right anymore.

Bobby was right. He had been more than stupid to leave Sam alone knowing what he did about Sam and the demon. Now Sam and the rest of Spokane were paying the price.

How could he save Sam, when he was the reason Sam had gone with the Demon?

John looked to Dean. He was still unconscious.

He squeezed Dean's hand willing him to wake. Sam needed him. If there was anyone who Sam would listen to and trust it would be Dean. He was John's only hope for saving Sam now. If Sam saw him, John, again, Sam would probably run away like he had earlier and John knew that he wouldn't be able to take seeing Sam running away from him in terror again.

It really was amazing how things could change so drastically for the worse in just one week. He had to hope that in next week things would change drastically for the better instead.

* * *

"_I can't stay here dad," Dean said suddenly. "I need a break." _

"_A break?" dad said irrediculously, "From what?" _

"_Sam." _

"_He's your brother Dean-" _

"_He's your son." _

_Behind them, Sam watched silently._

_Suddenly his father was in his face._

"_Because of you, my wife, your mother, died. You took her away from us. If you had never existed then me and your brother would have had a better life."_

_A shot rang widely in the air as the man suddenly was lifted backwards into the air, flying through the air until he hit a tree and slumped to the ground, he was dead._

_Suddenly another gunshot rang out._

_All was quiet in the room, then…_

"_Why Sam?" Dean said brokenly. "Why did you kill me?"_

"_Dean!" he said, shaking his brother shoulders. _

_Weakly Dean turned looked up at Sam._

"_Go to Hell," he spat._

Sam opened his eyes. All was dark. He was in a bed.

He had been dreaming. Turning on his back, he raised a hand to his forehead and sighed. He was silent for a few moments before the tears started to come. Soon he was sobbing, both hands covering his face in the dark. All the memories he had been fighting for, his entire past, came back to him in a flash as if in a tidal wave.

His sobs only increased as he remembered the good times he had had with his family. Then the horror of mere hours ago came to mind.

He thought of what Dean had said before he…died about everyone around him being demons. He thought of the old man and when his eyes had flashed yellow. The only demon he knew with yellow eyes was the one who killed his mother.

Had he joined the enemy? No wonder Dean had called him a traitor.

_What had he done?_

* * *

Less than 10 miles away in a small hospital room, a pair of eyes shot open.

"Sammy!"


	12. Chapter 12 Numb

**Hi again, thanks for all the wonderful reviews! Here's another chapter for you all, enjoy!**

**

* * *

****Chapter 12**

**Numb**

*****

_When you're at the end of the road  
And you lost all sense of control  
And your thoughts have taken their toll  
When your mind breaks the spirit of your soul  
Nothing's ever built to last  
You're in ruins…_

_21 Guns, Green Day_

* * *

**December 6th 2000**

John looked at Dean's sleeping form sadly. Last night Dean had finally woken up. It had not been the peaceful joyous moment that John had been waiting for. Nurses had had to be called in to sedate Dean because he had become so agitated and combative.

He and Bobby had been watching the TV, still not talking to each other, when Dean had suddenly woken up, sitting up straight in his bed yelling for Sam.

When he couldn't find Sam among the faces surrounding him he had asked where Sam was and why he wasn't there with them. John couldn't answer Dean's question and Dean had taken it in the worst way, throwing his covers off and pulling the I.V. from his hand, trying to rip off the tubes and machines still connected to his body.

Bobby's quick thinking was rewarded that moment when he came back to the room, having slipped out unnoticed, a doctor and several nurses right behind him. The nurses had all worked together to push Dean back onto the bed while the doctor had administered a strong sedative to Dean. Within seconds Dean was out. The nurses had reconnected the I.V. and all the machines before finally leaving the room in silence.

The doctor had stayed behind and told them that while Dean was well on the road to recovery that he couldn't afford to have a repeat f that night's incident.

Looking at Dean now, it was hard to imagine him as he had been last night. It had been scary. Dean had looked every bit a crazed mental patient as he had sought for his brother and answers why he wasn't there. It was as if Dean knew that Sam was in trouble.

John wouldn't think twice if that were the case. From the day that Sam was born, Dean always seemed to know when he was in trouble. More than often it was Dean who righted whatever trouble Sam had gotten himself into.

John only hoped that Dean would be able to help get Sam out the latest trouble he had found himself in.

* * *

When Sam woke up again, it was to a fully lighted room. Sitting patiently beside him was the old man. Surprised, Sam sat up and backed himself as far as he could against the wall in an effort to put some space between them.

"I've been waiting for you to wake Sam," the old man said.

Sam's heart was racing. Now that he had his memories to draw from, he knew who he was dealing with.

"What do you want?" Sam asked, trying to sound commanding but failing miserably.

"I want you," the demon said simply.

Sam looked from the demon to the door. There was no way the demon would let him escape so easily.

"Ever wonder about why I killed your mother?" the demon asked, revealing that he knew that Sam had gotten his memories back. "I know you have."

Sam looked at the demon not saying a word.

"She didn't have to die that night," the demon informed him. "She knew that I would be coming, I told her not to interrupt, but what did she do? She tried to stop me. We had a deal. She broke it, so she had to die."

Sam shook his head viciously.

"She wouldn't ever deal with the likes of you!" he shot back.

The demon tutted.

"Ah, but how would you know?" the demon taunted, "You never knew the woman. She was quite the hunter in her own right, feisty."

Sam's eyes widened as his mother's background in hunting was revealed.

"When I broke your father's neck, she was only too willing to deal with me," the demon revealed. "You should be thanking me that your father lived. Without me, you and your brother would never have been born."

Sam couldn't find the words to say to that. Maybe the demon was lying. But then again, his dad had always told him that demons always based their lies on some sort of truth. It was why they were so tricky to deal with.

"You're lying," Sam said finally.

The demon leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

"Why would I come up with such a tale?" the demon said with a self satisfied smile. "I knew that any child that that woman would have would be special."

Sam looked away from the demon. He knew the demon was trying to get under his skin with his words. He had to be strong, no matter how worthless he felt. If he had to fake it, then that's what he would do.

"Why do you need me so much?" he countered.

The demon lifted the corner of his mouth up in a small smile.

"That is for me to know and you to find out…if you can" the demon said, enjoying how much his words were frustrating the boy in front of him.

Sam narrowed his eyes at the demon.

"I won't do it," Sam said resolutely. "Whatever it is you need me for, I won't do it."

The demon tutted again.

"You're so sure are you?" the demon started laughing. "Did you ever wonder why your dad seemed to treat you so differently from your brother?"

Sam frowned at the mention of his father.

"Sorry, did I hit a sore subject there?" the demon laughed again. "You're father knew you were different_, tainted_."

Sam shook his head.

"You know I speak the truth," the demon said. "You always knew you were different from the other kids, from your brother."

"You want to know what I did to you that night in the nursery?" the demon said leaning forward. "You want to know why bad things always seem to happen to you and your family?"

Sam took a deep breath. Did he really want to know?

"I fed you my blood that night," the demon said proudly. "My blood flows through your veins Sam, demon blood."

A look of revulsion came over Sam's face.

"I marked you as my own that night," the demon continued. "You can never escape me; I will always be able to find you and I will make you do my bidding."

"You are mine."

* * *

_"I'm coming with you!" Dean shouted. _

_"You're staying here with Sammy!" John shot back. _

Dean was standing in the far corner of the room watching the scene before him unfold. It was strange watching himself talk to his dad, but here he was.

_"What could possibly happen to him here?! This place is practically a ghost town!" Dean reasoned. _

Dean walked over to himself. He remembered now. This was the day they had left Sam to go on that wild goose chase of a misguided hunt.

_"Don't argue with me!" dad threatened. _

Dean turned away from his dad and toward the window. From the angle he was standing at, he could see that Sam was standing just outside the door, his hand paused in mid air toward the door handle, listening.

_ "I can't stay here dad," Dean said suddenly. "I need a break." _

_"A break?" dad said irrediculously, "From what?" _

"Don't say it," Dean said muttered, looking at himself loathingly. "Don't-"

_"Sam." _

_"He's your brother Dean-" _

_"He's your son." _

Outside, Dean watched heartbroken as Sam's mouth dropped open in shock. Sam eyes were downcast and his back slumped in defeat. How could he have said those hurtful words about his own brother who he loved more than anything else in the world?

_ "Admit it dad," Dean said. "You can't take it either, that's why you're so eager to leave, and right before thanksgiving no less." _

He watched as Sam's hand dropped from the door handle.

_"What sort of thanksgiving were you expecting?" his dad asked. "It's a pipedream, nothing more Dean. This family is falling apart." _

Dean looked on as Sam's head snapped up. The thought came to him that Sam was probably waiting for Dean to defend him. He cringed as he realized how the conversation had gone. He had not defended his little brother in any way.

_"You really think that?" Dean stated. _

_"We're just too different," his dad said. "You and me, we're a team, but Sam…" _

Dean sighed heavily and closed his eyes. He knew what came next.

_"I know," Dean said. _

When he had said those words, he had meant that he understood how different Dad and Sam were, but looking at it from Sam's point of view he saw how painful those words would have been to hear.

_"Please don't leave me here," Dean pleaded. _

Dean watched as Sam cringed at hearing him beg. He never begged for anything.

_"I have to make sure he's safe Dean, even if he doesn't care about what we do for him, at least until he's eighteen, then he's free to risk his own life for all I care." _

Dean looked up at his father. How could he say such a thing? Did he know how that had sounded? Had he meant to sound like he was taking care of Sam out of a feeling of grudging obligation, not fatherly love? Did his dad even love Sam like a father should?

He walked over behind himself.

_ "Screw you," Dean said. _

Finally, words that he agreed with. He watched himself turn around and walk right through him. He followed himself out the door and into Sam.

_"Dean I-" _

_"Save it Sammy," Dean said shaking his head as he went over to his car. _

He wanted to punch himself in the face for treating Sam that way. What had Sam done to deserve such callous treatment? He watched Sam's eyes fill with hurt before Sam turned and walk right through him and into the room behind him.

Suddenly the scene before him faded into black. The next thing he knew he was opening his eyes to a view of a white ceiling.

Confused, he looked around himself for any clues as to where he was. With a sharp intake of breath he remembered. He was in a hospital and Sammy was not here.

"Dean," a voice to his left said. "You're awake."

It was his dad.

He looked away. Bobby was sitting on the other side of his bed.

"Where is Sam?" Dean asked.

"You have t keep calm Dean," his dad spoke from the other side of the bed. "We can't have what happened last night happen again."

Dean turned to his dad.

"I'm calm, now answer my question," he said commandingly. "I know something is wrong."

He looked at his father who looked away.

"Bobby?" he asked, turning to face him. Bobby crumpled under his pleading gaze.

"We don't know where he is Dean," Bobby answered solemnly. "We tried Dean, we tried to find him and we did, but he…" Bobby paused unwilling to finish the sentence.

"He what?" Dean asked "He what, Bobby?!"

"He didn't want to come with us," John said.

Dean turned to his dad.

"It's a long story…" his dad trailed off.

"Tell me everything!" Dean ordered. "You sit here looking guilty as hell; tell me what happened to my brother!"

"Dean," his dad said reaching over and clasping Dean's hand between his own hands. "I am guilty as hell as far as I'm concerned."

He stared at Dean's hand before continuing.

"All I ask," he said looking up at Dean with pleading eyes, "Is that you not speak until I'm done."

He swallowed.

"I won't blame you if you decide that you don't want anything to do with me afterwards, but just promise that you will do everything in your power to save Sammy, ok? Promise me."

Dean took a deep breath and nodded.

"I need to hear you say it," his dad said, eyes boring into Dean's. This was serious.

"I promise," Dean said.

John nodded.

Dean could only hope that what he was about to hear wasn't as bad as he had a feeling it would be.

In the end, it was so much worse than he could ever have imagined.

* * *

_"You are mine."_

Sam seethed at the words. He hated the thought of being owned by anyone, let alone the demon that had ruined his family's life. With all the facts present before him, he had been seriously thinking in the darkness left behind in the wake of the demon's exit hours before.

He had gone over everything in his mind from the earliest memory he had. He went through his childhood and through the past few weeks in particular.

He went over the weeks of taunts and lack of attention given to him by his family. He remembered the day that Dean and dad had left, the hurtful words spoken between all of them. He remembered the dreams he had had of what his family's life would have been like if he hadn't been born. He remembered feeling so alone and helpless.

Ever since then, his life had gone completely upside down. The amnesia, the murders, the demon. It seemed he couldn't run away from the feeling of being alone even though surrounded by people. With his father out to get him and his brother dead at his hand, he couldn't help but think that they had gotten what they deserved and that if anyone was entitled to going dark with everything that had happened to him, it was him.

Yet he couldn't completely give himself to the darkness. Even among the bad, there was good.

He remembered the way his dad would always hug him whenever he returned from a hunt. His dad had made him feel so safe. He remembered Dean and the way he always was looking out for him, protecting him from the world, and his father, when the situation warranted it. He remembered the assurance Dean always gave him that everything would be alright so long as they were together.

Even though his family had treated him so horribly and had hurt him so badly, the memories of the good times kept him from going completely dark.

Part of his mind held to the hope that everything that had gone wrong in his family within the past few weeks had been caused by the demon; that what they had said and done weren't true reflections of how they felt about him. This part of his mind thought that maybe, just maybe, if he found his dad and let him explain that all the hurt feelings could be put to rest and they could move forward from there as best they could. But at the same time, this part of his mind was aware that demons based their lies on some grain of truth. There had to be some bit of truth in his family's feelings for that demon to have built his foundation of lies on.

All in all, there was one thing he knew. He hated that demon.

That demon had ruined his chance at having any semblance of a normal life. He had decided that he couldn't blame his mother for the decision that she had made. The demon had been responsible for his father's death in the first place. The demon had manipulated his mother into making a deal with him by targeting a person she was willing to die for.

He sighed. He felt so alone in all of this.

He thought of all the innocent people that had gotten killed in the demons efforts to control him. He thought of the two women and the hundreds of shooting victims. All of them had been had had their lives taken away all in the effort to test him, to see if he would just flip a switch and go demon on them like they wanted..

He couldn't let that happen again.

Even though he was anything but pure, he still had his morals; morals given to him by his family. He could at least honor the good things they had done for him even though in the end he wasn't worth it. He didn't know how he would kill the demon or if that was even was possible, but he had to do something to rid the earth of this evil.

Then he would rid the world of himself.

He was tainted and would never have a normal life. His continued existence would only result in the death of everyone around him. He attracted the darkness like a magnet. It would be selfish of him to want to live knowing that.

But before he could do that, he had to kill the demon. It was a tall order, and though death was what he wanted more than anything, especially after the demons revelations, it was something that he had to do before he could leave this world with a clean conscience. It was his way of trying to make up for all the evil that he had caused to those around him.

Once the demon was gone, and only then, would he give into the solitude that awaited him in death. It would be hard resisting the call, but he had to do it. There was enough evil in the world without adding the demon into the mix.

* * *

Leave," Dean said looking hard at his father. "Just go."

John stared at Dean for a moment and then nodded sadly. He stood up and solemnly walked out of the room.

Dean looked to Bobby and didn't even have to say a word as Bobby stood up and joined John in leaving the room.

Now alone, Dean sighed.

His father had told a tale that was worthy of the twilight zone, only it was completely and absolutely true.

Sammy had willingly gone with the demon that had killed their mother. Though they couldn't be sure, Sam had most likely participated and even lead the shootings just miles away.

On his dad's side of the action, he had failed to search for Sam when all clues were pointing to him being in trouble. By the time he had realized that, he was possessed by the demon and used to push Sam over the ledge that both he and his dad had led Sam to, into willingly joining the enemy.

He wasn't void of any blame either. His hurtful words and actions had probably made Sam feel even more alone than he most likely already felt. With his dad and brother against him, it was no wonder Sam had left. Maybe if he hadn't treated Sam the way he did and said those words, Sam never would have left in the first place.

Maybe.

But it was much too late to waste any time on the what If's. He had to act and he had no time to waste. Who knew what was happening with Sam now. The more time he took in finding Sam, the less the chance would be that he could save his little brother from the hole he had fallen into.

He didn't know where to start, but he couldn't stay here while his brother suffered.

He looked around himself until he fund the call button. Pressing it firmly, he waited as patiently as he could under the circumstances for the nurse to come to his call. He was an adult; his dad could not say anything about it. He was checking himself out of here one way or another, with or without the doctor's approval.

He would not be sequestered on the side lines any longer.

* * *

He rarely made mistakes. He was nothing if but precise. But this time, he had been blinded by his overconfidence into thinking that his plan would work. His overconfidence was built on many years of successful plans. But for all his experience and knowledge, he had failed to plan for the unpredictability that was Sam Winchester.

He would say it again, Sam Winchester was special.

Sam had not behaved as he had predicted. With his family rejecting him at every turn and even seemingly wishing death upon him, Sam had not given himself over completely to the darkness. He had done his best to take everything Winchester out of the boy, starting with his family, and worked his lowly magic on the boy, surrounding him with darkness and abandonment. He had done everything he could to make the boy believe that he was alone in the world.

He had thought that by showing up when the boy was at his lowest and offering him companionship and equality that the boy would only be too eager to join him and give himself up entirely to the cause of darkness. He had thought that the boy would be eager to prove his family wrong; to prove that he was better than they were; that he was everything they had thought he would never amount to.

Most of all he had thought that when provided the chance to take the ultimate revenge on his brother, that Sam would only be so happy to take advantage. Had he deluded himself so much into mistakenly thinking that Sam was acting according to his plan? Had he sunk so low as to look beyond the boy's failure to succumb to his temptations? Had he been only seeing what he wanted to see of the boy?

As he talked to the boy earlier he had seen into the boy's mind. He knew Sam had gotten back his memories. There was nothing he could do to reverse that. It just wasn't in his power to make people forget though he could do things with people while he possessed them without them remembering anything. He would have to tread carefully now and watch the boy's every move now that the boy had full memory of the supernatural world and how to deal with it.

He didn't understand how he could be so wrong. Any other person would have crumbled under what he had put Sam through. In fact, many others had, but not Sam. It was perplexing.

How could one boy, special as he was, go against the instincts and temptations of an age old demon?

Forget plan B. This boy was just too special to let go. He wanted this boy and he wanted him now. He was not going to let him go and wait for another suitable time.

He would not be waiting until Sam was more willing to follow because it was clear that that would never happen. He would just have to outwit the boy and trick Sam into doing his bidding.

It was low of him to resort to tricks but hey, he was a demon after all.


	13. Chapter 13 Marching on

**Star of a new week, start of a new chapter. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 13**

**Marching on**

*****

_Have to try to break free  
from the thoughts in my mind.  
Use the time that I have,  
I can't say goodbye,  
Have to make it right.  
Have to fight, cause I know  
In the end it's worthwhile…_

_Pale, Within Temptation_

* * *

**December 7****th**** 2000**

The demon was considering his options. He had to tread carefully in the next few days if his plan was to succeed. Sam Winchester was smart. He would have to be smarter.

The days were counting down before the final ritual would take place.

He was gathering momentum as the days passed by. Demons from across the world were gathering in this area for the big show that was to take place. It was so exciting. He just had the small issue of getting Sam to play his part in the whole thing. Ok, so it was more than just a small issue.

While there were others that could do the job just as well and without as much trouble required on his part, there was no one else out of those few like Sam. Over the years since he had marked his special children, he had been watching every one of them, assessing their future potential.

None of those children had the potential that Sam did, what with his hunting background and high intelligence. There was so much more than that though; Sam was resilient and determined, all good qualities for potential leader.

More than that, he was so much more powerful than all the rest. Sam just didn't know it yet. All he had to do was unlock those powers and Sam would be putty in his hands. To that end, he had called in one of his most trusted demons and put together a plan that would not only help to get Sam to play his part, but would leave him unable to ever leave them in the future. It was genius.

There was no time to waste.

Within the day, Sam would be well on his way toward putting on the chains that would bind him to the darkness forever.

* * *

John placed the duffle bag on the bed. He was silent as he did so; silent as he had been ever since he had found out about Dean's intentions to leave the hospital. The doctor had been reluctant but had agreed to let Dean go so long as he spent one more night under his care. Dean was an adult after all and had the full rights of one. If he wanted out, there was nothing legally they could do unless he was a danger to others or incompetent, things which Dean wasn't.

Bobby was outside waiting in his truck. He had resolved to stick around at least until Sam could be found and safely brought back.

Dean took the bag from the end of the bed and placed it at the head of bed, turning his back to his father. Taking the hint, John left the room quietly.

Though he couldn't blame Dean, it still was painful to see Dean reject him.

* * *

Sam was in darkness once more. No matter how hard he had searched, he couldn't find a light switch. It seemed that the demon wanted him to not only join the darkness, but live in it also.

He had been thinking, analyzing every bit of information that the demon had given him and he had come up with a plan. It wasn't much and it could very well fail, but it was all he could think of.

The demon had said he was special, that he needed Sam to do something for him. What would Sam be able to do that a demon couldn't? What made him so special? He had thought about it and was able to come up with the theory that the demon must not be able to do what ever it was that he wanted done; that no demon could. But why not ask any other human? Why him?

It all went back to the blood; the demon blood he had been fed as an infant. It had to give him something that a normal human didn't have. It was what made him special. Now the question was why. Why did the demon blood make him special? Did it make him more susceptible and aware of the supernatural than a normal human? Did it allow him to act as a demon would without the restrictions that a demon could face?

Would drinking more of it increase whatever it was that made him so special to the demon? Would it be possible to use what it was that made him special against the demon?

It was a dark line of questioning for sure, but he was willing to do whatever it took to get rid of the demon once and for all. He had nothing to lose.

What he really needed was someone to talk to, someone who would know more about demons and the possibilities that drinking demon blood could allow.

He needed to talk to a demon.

Suddenly, the door to his room opened and the light came on.

He was surprised to find that it wasn't the yellow eyed demon this time. Instead, a large man came into the room carrying a struggling girl that looked to be his age. Throwing her to the floor, the man backed off and stood by the door which had seemingly closed of its own accord. The girl looked warily at the man who glared at her fiercely, but said nothing.

Sam looked from the girl to the man curiously. What was the yellow eyed demon playing at?

The girl looked away from the man and at Sam. There was fear in her eyes and dread.

Just as suddenly as the girl's arrival had been, the door opened and the yellow eyed demon walked in. He assessed the scene before him and smiled evilly. Sam didn't like it one bit.

"I'll make a deal with you Sam," he started.

Immediately Sam frowned.

"Oh not a deal like _that_," the demon said with a smirk. "Just a normal, human, no strings attached deal."

Sam narrowed his eyes.

"I'll let you out of this room," the demon explained, "You can go out and do what ever you want, go wherever you want."

Sam waited for the demon to continue.

"You just have to promise me that you will come back here by day's end and," the demon paused dramatically. "You have to take_ her_ along with you."

He motioned at the girl who was now looking at the floor.

Sam tilted his head at the demon.

The demon sighed dramatically.

"Ok, so there are two strings attached," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Why would I want to agree to this?"

The demon smiled slightly.

"I know you hate being in this room with your thoughts, _all alone_," the demon taunted. "Plus I thought it would be rather generous of me to offer you some freedom, you know, so that you can see that I'm not only just hail and hell fire all the time."

"I want to show you that I care for those who show loyalty," the demon looked at the girl pointedly. She was looking at him with contempt. "There are great rewards that await your complete devotion to me."

The girl looked away.

Sam watched the whole exchange rather confused.

"If I go, how will you make sure that I come back?" Sam asked. "For all you know, I could walk out that door with her and never come back."

The demon smiled.

"Good to see that your attitude hasn't been completely lost," the demon said. He motioned at the large man standing guard by the door. "He will accompany you."

The room was quiet for a while.

"So what will it be?" the demon asked.

Sam looked at the girl who was now watching him silently. He wondered why she had come into the picture so suddenly.

"I'll go," Sam said.

"No funny business," the demon warned.

Sam nodded and watched as the demon left the room. This time the door stayed open.

Sam pushed himself up off the bed and approached the girl. He offered a hand to help her up, but she looked away.

_Ok then._

Refusing his help, she stood up on her own.

"I guess we should go?" he said uncertainly.

The girl only shrugged her shoulders.

He didn't know what the point of this all was, but he would be sure to get to the bottom of it, no matter what it took.

* * *

The drive to Omak had been silent so far. Dean had yet to say anything to his Dad. Bobby had stayed behind in Spokane with the excuse that he wanted to get some sleep. So they had left him behind at the first motel they could find and went on their way.

Dean wanted his car. It was in Omak, so he reluctantly allowed his father to give him a ride to get it. It was the fastest way to get it and get back on the search for Sam.

For the past few miles Dean noticed how his dad seemed to be trying to work up the courage to speak but would give up minutes later. Dean was getting tired of it.

"Just say whatever it is you want to say already!" he said angrily.

John looked at him surprised.

"I wasn't, I…" he muttered, looking back at the road ahead.

Dean turned angrily toward the window, gazing out at the passing scenery. They sat that way for a few minutes before John finally said what was on his mind.

"When you get your car back, are you leaving?" he said, keeping his eyes on the road. Dean knew what his dad really meant: are you leaving _me?_

He couldn't answer that right now.

"Hell yes, if leaving means I'm going to find Sammy," he said avoiding the question as best he could.

He watched his dad take a deep breath. He wasn't going to let this rest was he?

"Do you mean to search for him…alone?" John asked tentatively.

Dean turned back to the scenery outside.

"It going to take a whole lot more than me to be able to find him," Dean said.

He could feel his father's relief at his answer.

The rest of the ride to Omak was silent.

* * *

Sam took in the fresh air with a smile. It felt strange to smile after everything that had happened the last few days, but he was beyond caring anymore. He would smile while he could, even if it felt all wrong.

Beside him, the girl was looking at the ground, her arms crossed in front of her chest. She had straight dark hair and pale skin. She was thin and wore a tight fitting white long sleeve shirt and jeans. He wondered why she wasn't wearing a coat, but figured that was the least of her worries. So far she hadn't done anything to be suspicious of.

Behind them, out of earshot, was their "bodyguard." He trailed after them, his eyes never leaving them.

When they had exited the building they had found the building they were in was an old warehouse. Outside, the whole place was covered with snow. In front of the warehouse was an unkempt dirt road. No vehicles passed by. All was quiet, save for the sounds of their footfalls on the snow.

The area they were in was fairly sparse. On the other side of the street was a long chain link fence that went down the road as far as they could see. On the other side was a canal. A short distance away was a freeway that rose high into the air forming a bridge over the canal.

Walking toward the freeway, they crossed the road to the other side to get some distance from the warehouse. The girl still hadn't spoke and neither had he. He walked closer to the fence, running his hand across the fence as he walked.

Before reaching the freeway, the road they were on curved so that it was parallel to it. As they walked, it started to lightly snow. Soon they reached a bridge that went over the road and connected with the freeway to their left. Walking under it, the girl stopped and waited for Sam to notice. The body guard stood a short distance away in the snow.

Noticing that the girl was no longer walking, he turned to see why she had stopped. Once he stopped the girl walked around a pillar and looked at him appraisingly.

"You don't look that powerful Sam Winchester," she said.

Sam looked at her confused.

"What do you mean?" he asked walking closer to her. She leaned against the pillar.

"The demon told me you were special," she explained. "I don't see how."

Sam looked at the ground.

"Me neither," he said.

The girl put her hands in her pockets.

"You know," the girl started. "I don't even want to be here."

Sam looked up.

"Then why are you here?" he asked. It was what he had wanted to know ever since he had first seen the girl.

The girl took her hands out of her pockets and crossed them across her chest.

"Azazel thought I would be the best person to get the job done," she answered.

Now this was getting somewhere.

"What job?" he asked.

She sighed.

"It's complicated," she said. "Mainly, he wants me to get you to trust me."

Sam narrowed his eyes.

"Why are you telling me this then?" he asked.

"Because I hate lying," she said. "I hate misleading people, I…I just want to be honest for once."

Sam tilted his head at her.

"Then why did you agree?" Sam asked.

"I didn't," the girl replied. "He's forcing me into this. He says he'll send me back to hell if I don't cooperate."

"I don't want to go back there," the girl continued. "I just got out, I don't want to go back."

"You're a demon then," Sam stated.

The girl nodded rather reluctantly, before looking at the ground.

"I hate it." She said.

Logically, with everything that had been revealed, he knew that this might be one big act to get him to trust her. But her whole presentation was so sincere. No matter how much he knew about demons and how tricky they could be to get their way, he couldn't resist the story this girl had told.

What really got him was the way she hated what she was. She hadn't asked to be a demon; who did? It was just like him. He didn't ask to be tainted by the demon. He could relate to her.

"Why does the demon want me to trust you?" Sam asked.

The girl shook her head.

"I think he wants to have someone he can threaten to keep you in line," she answered. "He told me that that was one of your weaknesses as a Winchester."

Sam sighed. So far the girl was talking reasonably. What she said made sense. He knew it was a dangerous line he was walking. Should he trust this girl?

"I don't know what to say," the girl said. "If I were you I wouldn't trust me."

Sam watched her closely.

"I don't want to do this," she said further. "But at the same time I'm lonely Sam."

She looked up at him and locked her eyes on his.

"You don't know how lonely it is to be a demon."

She pushed herself off the pillar and walked away toward another one.

Sam followed her. She really was doing her best to make him trust her he had to admit, he was more than willing to believe her, but a part of his mind just kept resisting.

Maybe he didn't have to let her know that he didn't trust her. That way, if she believed that he trusted her, then she could tell the demon that she was successful and wouldn't get sent back to hell. He didn't want others punished because of him even if they were a demon. If it was all fake, than he was safe too. He frowned. That was very demon like thought.

Suddenly he understood. He understood demons now. Everything, all the lies and tricks, was about survival. The demons only did what they did for survival. It was a chilling thought. He was like them more than he was willing to admit.

The girl stared at him expectantly.

While he had decided to make it look like he trusted the girl, he couldn't be too sudden about it.

"I'll think about it," he said.

The girl sighed.

"It's all I can ask for," she said.

Sam took a deep breath. It was time to put his cards on the table.

"In return, I have some questions for you," Sam said.

The girl nodded and smiled slightly.

"Ask away," she replied.

"Well my first question should be easy," Sam said. "What's your name?"

She smiled.

"Ruby," she said, "My name is Ruby."

* * *

John could only watch as Dean struggled to start his car. He was sitting inside his truck gazing out of his window. Dean had not said anything when he had all but practically fled the truck. He knew Dean was having a hard time being around him.

His phone rang.

He looked at the screen. It was Daniel Elkins, his old mentor and friend. Everything he knew about the supernatural, he learned from Elkins. If there was anyone that could help them track down the demon quicker, it would be him. He answered the phone.

"I need your help."


	14. Chapter 14 Running up that hill

**Chapter 14**

**Running up that hill**

*****

_In your mind you've already succumbed to me, dropped all defenses  
Completely succumbed to me  
Now you are here with me  
No second thoughts  
You've decided  
Decided…_

_The point of no return, Andrew Lloyd Weber _

* * *

**December 8****th**** 2000**

Sam sat in the darkness once again. He was beginning to appreciate it more and more. In the light there was no hiding. Everything was visible. There was no hiding your faults or mistakes in the light. In that way, the darkness was very forgiving.

Yesterday he had taken his first step along a very dangerous road.

He had drank demon blood; Ruby's blood to be exact. It had been strangely exhilarating and had left him feeling better than he had in weeks.

When he asked about the Demon feeding blood to him as a baby, Ruby had confirmed that it was key to him having abilities but that he was inherently "talented" so to speak. She had told him that whatever it was that made him special would manifest itself when the time came.

He had told her that he couldn't wait for that to happen.

It was then that she suggested he drink her blood to see if that could jump start his abilities. While he had felt better than he had in weeks after that drink, he still wasn't feeling very "special" yet.

A tear fell down his cheek.

He was losing himself slowly, bit by bit, but if that was the cost to get rid of the demon, then that was that.

He wiped away the tear. He would cry no more. If he was to succeed then he had to leave his old self behind. The memories and thoughts would only hinder him in his objectives.

He closed his eyes and imagined everything that he was, burning in the night. When everything was ashes in his mind, he opened his eyes and reveled in the darkness around him.

Sam Winchester was no more.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, relaxing into a deep sleep.

_He was walking alone in the darkness. Beside him, a two lane road wove through the trees. He was looking for something, someplace. There was no moon light to guide him. Above him, the sky was covered in dark clouds that looked like they would burst any moment._

_In his hands he held a gun, but it wasn't any gun he had held before. It was older, from a different time. It had inscriptions on it and long thin barrel. He gripped it tight in his hands. _

_Scrutinizing the trees along the road, he searched for anything that would tell him of a path beyond. Finding nothing, he walked on. _

_The night wind blew around him, threatening rain, snow, and other hazards from the sky. He walked on. The chill in the air didn't bother him at all, though he was only wearing a long sleeve shirt and a hoody. He had a purpose and he was here to accomplish it. _

_As he looked hard into the trees, a gust of wind blew through the foliage revealing a rectangular stepping stone. He bent down and pushed aside more foliage and found another, leading upward through the trees. _

_He had found what he was looking for…_

* * *

Dean walked to his car in silence, pulling his coat around him tight. Ever since he had left the hospital, he felt the cold worse than ever before. He had just left the motel room, unable to stand being so useless to his brother. His dad and Bobby were going over everything that had happened, trying to find something, anything that could help them. Dean couldn't listening to them talk about everything that had gone wrong. He couldn't listen to them come up with theories on how the demon had gotten Sam.

He didn't care about any of that. What use was the past when it was the here and now that mattered?

He got into the Impala and just sat there, his breaths making little clouds in front of him. Shaking his head, he put his keys into the ignition and started her up. He didn't know where he would go, but he had to go somewhere.

* * *

It seemed like the yellow eyed demon was making a habit of letting Sam go out for the day. This time he and Ruby had walked much farther, several miles in fact, to a park they came across. It seemed as good as any place to stop.

As they had walked, Ruby had told him a little bit about herself. She talked about how she had been a witch during the plaque and that she had sold her soul to a demon before she died. It explained a lot about why she understood demons so well, her being a witch and having dealt with one as a human. It also explained how she had become a demon too.

Now as they walked through the snow covered hills of the park, his thoughts turned to the dream he had had.

"Ruby," Sam started, "Do demons dream?"

Ruby laughed.

"I wish," she replied. "I haven't slept since I was a human."

Sam nodded at the revelation that demons didn't sleep.

"Ok then, can demons see the future?" he asked.

Ruby shrugged her shoulders.

"Some can I guess," she answered. "Higher level ones."

"There are levels?" Sam asked surprised.

"It's all in the eyes Sam," Ruby answered. "Me, mine are black."

She demonstrated for Sam.

"Azazel, well you've seen him, his are yellow," she said. "He's higher up, more powerful."

"Is he the highest?" Sam asked.

Ruby scoffed.

"Not by far."

Sam looked at the ground internalizing the information. A moment later he spoke what really was on his mind.

"I had a dream," Sam said looking up, "I think it was of the future."

Ruby looked over at Sam.

"What did you see?" she asked.

Sam sighed.

"I was in a forest walking alongside a road," he revealed. "I was looking for something in the trees, a pathway I think, and I had a gun in my hand."

Ruby narrowed her eyes.

"What did this gun look like?" she asked.

Sam thought for a minute remembering the gun.

"It was old," he said. "A classic. It had a long skinny barrel and inscription on the handle."

Ruby seemed to look at Sam differently.

"What is it?" Sam asked noticing her look.

"It's strange," she said. "Azazel told me about a gun that sounds a lot like the one in your dream."

"He wants you to find it," she finished.

"So what am I then," Sam asked. "Some sort of seer?"

Ruby shrugged her shoulders.

"Have to wait and see," she said.

"So why does he want this gun and why am I supposed to find it?" Sam asked.

"He hasn't told me everything Sam," she answered, "He only tells me what he thinks I should know for now. It's thanks to you that I even know about the gun."

"After yesterday, he's softened up on me," Ruby said. "And I think he's starting to trust you just a little bit, which is better than nothing."

Inside Sam smiled at the information. If he could get the demon to trust him, then the killing blow in the end would be that much bitterer for the demon. He still was disappointed though.

"If my power is being a seer, how is that supposed to help me kill the demon?" Sam asked. Yesterday he had revealed his intention to kill the demon to Ruby just to test her loyalty and see how she would reply to that. Surprisingly, or maybe not, she had offered to help him develop whatever special powers he might have and would help him learn how to fight demons in ways he did not even thought were possible. She supported him in his intentions wholly.

Though he hated to admit it, he was truly growing to trust Ruby. She was doing everything she could to prove her devotion to him and it was working. No wonder the demon had picked her. She was good.

Pulling him around a large tree that helped to hide him from the view of the other people at the park, Ruby pulled a large knife from under her jacket. It had a wooden handle and a jagged edge. She looked up at him seriously.

"Now, you don't really need this Sam," she said. "But it's only until you figure out your powers."

Sam nodded.

She pulled up her sleeves and dragged the edge of the blade across her arm, blood seeping out of the cut left in its wake. She offered her arm to Sam.

Sam looked at the blood on her arm. He remembered the wonderful invincible feeling he had had after his last drink. He wanted that again.

He took advantage of her offer and drank until she pushed him away.

"We're gonna have to get another source if you keep up like that," Ruby teased.

Sam smiled. He felt great, like he could take over the world.

"So what are we going to do about the gun?" Ruby asked, pulling her sleeve down over the now healing cut.

Sam looked at her with all the answers in his eyes.

"You find out more about the gun and," he paused. "Tell him that I'll do what ever it he wants me to." Who cares what the demon wanted him to do. If doing the demon's bidding earned the trust of the demon, then killing him would be so much easier. Man he felt good right now.

Ruby looked up at him and smiled.

"I can do that."

* * *

When Dean came back to the motel after his little trip, it was to find another vehicle in his space, parked next to his dad's truck. Luckily there was an open spot on the other side of the truck. He didn't like to park out of view from the windows of whatever room they were staying in.

As he put the key into the door, he didn't think twice about the other truck and what it could mean.

Inside, he was surprised to find another person, that wasn't his dad or Bobby, sitting on the bed across from where the other two were sitting. This man had sandy blonde hair, a tired face, and looked to be in his fifties. There was a large map open on the bed where the lone man sat. All three of them were studying the papers held in their hands. Bobby turned around when he heard Dean close the door behind him.

There was an unvoiced question in his eyes.

_Where have you been?_

"What's going on here?" Dean asked, deflecting Bobby.

The newcomer looked at John, who then turned to Dean.

"Dean, this is Daniel Elkins," His dad informed.

The name was familiar.

"He's the one who taught me everything I know about hunting," his dad continued. "He's the best I know."

Dean nodded at his dad. He really was serious about finding Sam. It was a comforting thought among all the bad ones he was feeling toward his dad right now.

He took a seat next to the other man and took the stack of papers Bobby offered him. As he flipped through the pages he saw that they were a combination of newspaper story copies and stuff printed off from the internet. The stories talked about cattle mutilations, sudden lightening storms, malfunctioning electricity in entire towns, and strange sudden changes in temperature.

"Demonic omens," Bobby said answering Dean's unspoken question. "Happening everywhere on this side of Washington."

"What does that mean?" Dean asked looking around at the men before him.

"Something big is up," Daniel said gruffly, not looking at him. "All these signs tell me that the demons are gathering for something big and it will be going down very soon."

Dean looked at the papers more closely, looking at the dates.

"These dates," he said scrutinizing the papers and looking through them. "They all start around Thanksgiving."

Bobby nodded.

"It's like a tidal wave," Bobby said. "And it's only been gaining momentum."

Dean rubbed his hand across his face. These omens had started happening right around the time that Sammy went missing and with Sammy being with the demon now, it couldn't have been a simple coincidence. With all the efforts that the demon went through to get him, Sam had to have a pivotal part in all this.

"Why does the demon want Sam so badly?" Dean asked. "It's like he thinks Sammy is special…" he trailed off at the looks that were passing between the three other men.

"What?" he asked. "What is it?"

Bobby and his dad looked back at their papers. Daniel just made a sound of disapproval, not saying anything.

"What aren't you telling me?" Dean persisted.

John looked up.

"You don't want to know Dean," John said, his eyes pleading with Dean to let it go.

Dean turned to Bobby. Bobby ignored him.

He stood up angrily. The sun was starting to set outside. There was no place for him to go. He turned to the bed he had been sitting on and picked up the large map of Washington. He rolled it up and tossed it on the floor, not caring about what the other occupants of the room thought of his childish behavior. He went around to the other side of the now partially empty bed and laid on top of the covers, his back to the others.

He closed his eyes and thought of Sammy, eventually drifting off into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

_There was a gun on the bed. It was the gun he had seen in his dreams and the one that Ruby had told him the demon wanted him to find. A hand reached down and grabbed it._

_Suddenly he wasn't in the room with the man and the gun. _

_It was snowing again. He was at the familiar snow covered park he had been at before. Ruby was at his side. He was looking for someone, perhaps the man he had seen with the gun? He walked on._

_Beside him, Ruby stiffened and pulled him behind a tree. Quietly she pointed though the trees at a person that was walking in their direction. _

_Nodding to her to show her understanding, he moved out from the tree and rushed to another before the person could spot him. He kept the man firmly in his sights. The man had not noticed anything going on around him._

_As he watched the man come closer, Sam noticed that the man seemed to be looking for something, or someone. Sam looked at the man's hands. They were in his pockets. _

_This was the man he had seen earlier and the gun was most likely in his pocket. He was sure of it._

_The man looked around, suddenly staring right at him. Sam's eyes widened. The man's did too._

_He knew this man._

_It was Dean._

_But he was dead! This wasn't right. _

_The man started running toward him. He did the only thing he could think of. _

_He ran._

Next thing he saw was darkness.

It had been a dream. But had it been more?

He sat up and ran a hand through his hair. If this was a vision of the future then did that mean that Dean had the gun? But Dean was dead. He had killed him himself. He had watched him die. The Dean he saw must have been a ghost. But ghosts couldn't hold guns could they?

The only explanation he could come up with was that a demon was possessing Dean's dead body. Was that even possible? Perhaps a demon had slipped in before he had actually died. Maybe this was a test from the yellow eyed demon. Maybe he wanted to see if Sam was still a slave to his past.

Well he wasn't.

Tomorrow, he would march up to that demon, take that gun, and show that demon who was boss.

* * *

A mile away, another set of eyes opened in the darkness.

He had seen Sammy! And he had not been too far from here at a park that he had driven by earlier. He could recognize those eyes anywhere.

He sighed.

It was just a dream though. It couldn't be real.

But then again, he didn't have a clue who the girl was. Why would his mind create a random girl that he had never seen in his entire life and put her with Sam?

Was there more to this dream than he thought?

The only way to find out would be to go to that park and wait. But who knew when this would take place, if it even would?

He shook his head.

It was just a dream, nothing more. He turned on his side and closed his eyes again, falling asleep minutes later.


	15. Chapter 15 Gifts and curses

**Dean and Sam finally meet again, enjoy!**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 15 **

**Gifts and curses**

*****

_When they finally come, how will you handle them?  
Will you devastate them deliberately?  
'Cause I'm gonna guess they won't be prepared for the  
Thousand Fahrenheit hot metal lights behind your eyes…_

_Invincible, Ok go_

* * *

**December 9****th**** 2000**

"_Sam."_

Someone was shaking him.

"Sam, wake up," the voice said again, shaking him once more.

Still not all awake, Sam responded by throwing his arms about trying to get rid of the perceived threat. The resulting scream and sound of something hitting a wall brought him out of his sleep induced stupor.

It was Ruby and she was sprawled on the floor against the wall.

Sam's eyes widened. Jumping out of his bed, he rushed over to her side.

"Are you ok?" he asked. "I didn't mean to…" he trailed off.

Ruby looked at him strangely.

"You didn't touch me Sam," she said.

Sam took in her words and frowned.

"But you're…my arm…I threw…' he paused, scratching his head.

Ruby smiled.

"Looks like we found another power of yours," she pushed herself off the floor and went over to Sam's bed and sat down. Sam followed, and sat down beside her.

He put his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands. Last night he had not gotten a good night's rest. He had laid awake thinking about the Dean he had seen in his dream. It brought up many feelings he had tried to bury deep after killing him just days before. Now he had the whole 'throwing Ruby into a wall seemingly with his mind' thing to worry about. He felt drained. He thought of how good he had felt yesterday.

As if sensing what he was going to ask, Ruby touched Sam's shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts. She pulled out her knife, pulled up her sleeve, and cut into her skin.

Sam looked at Ruby as if to ask for permission then grabbed her arms hungrily. A few minutes later, Ruby pulled her arm away.

"Your re one hungry boy," she said pulling her sleeve down.

Sam looked away almost ashamed.

"It just makes me feel so…alive," he said. He looked back at Ruby who was nodding in understanding.

"Soon you'll be able to feel your power without the help of my blood," she said. "So what's on the agenda for today?"

Sam stood up; more awake and energetic than he had been minutes before.

"We have to go back to that park we were at yesterday," Sam announced. "The gun will be there."

Ruby smiled and stood up.

"You saw this?" she asked eagerly.

Sam nodded and started walking toward the door.

"You seem very excited about all of a sudden," Ruby commented walking behind him.

"There's no time to lose," he said quickly turning around to look at her. Then he continued on his way, walking out the door and down the hall toward the exit. Ruby followed. By the time she got out to the hall, the door leading outside was already closing.

Right as she was ready to open the door, the sudden feeling of someone watching her made her pause. Glancing behind, she saw Azazel standing at the other end of the hallway. He nodded slowly in approval.

She looked back at him, her eyes hard to read, then turned away and went out the door.

* * *

Dean moved around the motel room quietly. His dad was finally sleeping. A couple of hours ago he had woken to the sounds of his dad coming back into the room. It seemed that his dad and the others had gone to another room to talk over their plans and theories after he had fallen asleep on the bed.

Judging from how deeply his dad was sleeping, they must have really been at it all night.

He put on another sweater before putting on his coat. He couldn't seem to keep warm. The doctor had told him that he might feel that way for a while. With everything that had happened, it was easy for him to forget that he had been in the hospital just days ago.

Quietly opening and shutting the door behind himself, he went to his car. He was going to the park.

His curiosity just couldn't be ignored anymore.

* * *

It wasn't exactly the nicest day for a walk. Clouds blocked the sun and threatened snow. Flashes in the sky could be seen in the distance. They had been walking for a while now. They would be at the park very soon.

During the walk to the park, Sam had practically interrogated Ruby about the various ways to kill a demon. Ruby had given him everything he had wanted to know and then some.

Up ahead he could see the park.

As he looked up to the sky, he noticed that it had started snowing. It was just as he had seen in his dream. Soon they were within the park boundaries.

They walked around the trees for a few minutes before Ruby suddenly stiffened beside him and pulled him behind a tree. Quietly she pointed though the trees at a person that was walking in their direction.

Nodding to her to show her understanding, he moved out from the tree and rushed to another before the person could spot him. He kept the man firmly in his sights. The man had not noticed anything going on around him.

As he watched the man come closer, Sam noticed that the man seemed to be looking for something, or someone. Sam looked at the man's hands. They were in his pockets.

Everything was happening just as it had in his dreams. He could see the future after all.

The man looked around, suddenly staring right at him. The man's eyes widened as recognition lit up his eyes.

It was Dean for sure, no matter how wrong it seemed.

Just as 'Dean' had done in his dream, he started running toward him. With a small smile, Sam took off running, Ruby following right behind him looking at him questioningly.

He wasn't running because he feared Dean, no. He was running because he had a plan.

* * *

Dean had been walking around the park listlessly waiting for something he didn't even think would happen, when it did.

Between the trees, in the same spot as in the dream, was Sam and he was looking straight at him. Not even thinking, he ran toward Sam. Sam only started running away as a result.

Now that he had him in his sights, he wasn't going to let Sam go without a fight.

He chased his little brother, lamenting how tired he was getting as he ran on. He had only left the hospital 2 days ago after all. Up ahead his brother ran into the parking lot, the girl still beside him.

_Who was she and what was she doing with Sam?_

Unexpectedly, Sam suddenly was sprawled across the asphalt, having slipped on some ice. Dean took advantage and pounced on his brother, pinning his arms behind him.

"Sam!" Dean said. "It's me, it's Dean!"

Sam struggled beneath him.

"No you're not," Sam forced out. "You're a demon!"

Dean sighed.

"I'm not," he argued. "Just come back with me and I can prove it!"

Sam stopped struggling. Dean took it as a good sign.

"That's it Sam," he said.

Suddenly, he was flying through the air, landing on his back some 10 feet away.

What had just happened?

He tried to get up, but found that he was frozen.

Sam suddenly appeared above him, grinning evilly. He raised his hand above Dean and before Dean could blink, was holding his gun.

Sam seemed confused as he stared at the gun.

"This isn't the gun," he muttered.

Dean was still trying to comprehend how Sam had gotten the gun out of his pocket without touching him; that and the whole being flung away like a rag doll thing.

Sam looked away, presumably at the girl.

"He doesn't have the gun," he said.

"Maybe it wasn't him you saw," she said coming into Dean's view.

Sam seemed to think before nodding slowly. He dropped the gun on the ground beside Dean then raised a hand. Dean could only breathe as he watched Sam concentrate.

However, nothing happened.

"You've never done this before," the girl said. "Maybe you probably just need to practice."

_Practice what?_

Sam seemed to give up as he lowered his hand.

"Yeah, maybe," he conceded.

Dean thought that maybe Sam would let him go, but he was wrong. Raising his hand once more, Sam concentrated. As the moments passed, Dean could feel himself getting sleepy.

_Sam was putting him to sleep!_

He tried resisting, but the pull was too great and he succumbed to call of sleep.

* * *

As soon as Dean's eyes closed, Sam turned away.

"Let's go," he said to Ruby.

Ruby looked at Dean then at Sam.

"What did you do?" she asked worriedly.

Sam shook his head.

"I put him to sleep," he answered.

Ruby seemed surprised.

"You put him to sleep?" she asked.

They started walking back the way they had come.

"And I froze him," he said. "He won't be following us."

Ruby was silent for a moment, then…

"How did you do all that?" she burst out.

Sam smiled.

"I think that I've just had a breakthrough on using my powers."

Ruby smiled too.

"I told you that your powers, just needed a jumpstart," she said.

The rest of the way back to the warehouse, they talked about the things that demons could do. Sam internalized every bit of information Ruby gave. He was definitely going to be testing them out later.

* * *

Azazel was happy. Whether that was good thing or not depended on which side of the divide you stood on.

Everything that the demon had tried to accomplish by having the boy kill his own brother had been accomplished today and Sam hadn't even had to kill his brother in the end.

He had to admit that he had been quite impulsive by hiring that shape shifter to pose as Dean. He had tried to force something that couldn't be forced. The boy hadn't been ready then and it had almost cost him everything. What if they boy had decided to kill himself that night?

He shook his head.

Everything wrong had been righted today. The boy had managed to unlock his powers fully by attacking his brother. He wouldn't pretend that he understood why it had worked this time and not the last time, but he was glad it had happened finally.

He would have to thank that girl when he saw her next. She was pure gold.

* * *

As soon as they had returned to the warehouse, Ruby had disappeared, reappearing minutes later with another demon.

That was hours ago.

He was on his third one now.

The first one had taken longer to break. That was just to get his hands wet so to speak; to get the hang of his powers. He had struggled to exorcise the demon by just willing it to happen. Ruby had told him that some demons could force others out of their hosts; but it had taken so long and gave him the worst headache that he had almost thought it just wasn't one of his gifts. But right when he was about to quit, the demon had screamed out angrily before escaping its host in a black cloud of thick smoke.

In the wake of its exit the host hadn't been so lucky. However, the body had provided new ways to harness his powers. They needed to get rid of the body, so he had tested whether or not he was telekinetic by trying to make the body float in the air in front of them on their way outside. It had worked without too much effort. On a haunch, he tried to see if he set the body on fire with his mind. To his surprise and Ruby's delight, the body had promptly caught fire.

This had led to him playing with next demon before getting down to business. He had practiced mind control, making the demon do both silly and harmful things like doing hand stands and then stabbing themselves. He had also dabbled in making the person believe that they were someplace else. By the time he was through, he could transfer what image or scenery he wanted the person to see, into their minds eye. This time when he finally got around to exorcising the demon, he had managed to send the demon back to hell.

This third demon was helping him hone the art of mind reading. It was so easy for him now. Sam Winchester never would have been able to do this, but since he was no longer that scared helpless boy, he had no limits now.

On the sidelines, Ruby cheered him on.

"Kill this one Sam," Ruby said eagerly.

Sam smiled evilly and concentrated. The demon struggled but a quick hand motion froze the demon in place.

The act of actually killing a demon proved to be much harder than he had anticipated. Soon he was sweating and he could feel his nose dripping blood. Maybe he just wasn't strong enough to kill a demon yet?

He frowned. He had to be strong; he had to be able to do this. He wasn't weak!

Suddenly the demon let out a pitiful scream. An unearthly light started to flash beneath the skin of the demon, before it raised his head toward the sky in a final scream. It slumped to the ground slowly, dead just moments later.

Sam stumbled over toward the bed before collapsing into it. That demon had taken a lot out of him.

"That was great Sam," Ruby said. "I'll take care of this one, you sleep ok?"

Sam nodded and watched as she took the body out of the room, presumably to burn it.

He was spent. He closed his eyes and before he could think, he was already asleep.

* * *

Dean was sitting on the bed. It was same spot he had been sitting down on for a while. When he had finally come back, after the mysterious paralysis had worn off, the other three members of their rag tag hunting group were sitting on the bed going over historical records and everything else they had managed to get a hold of from the local library.

Thankfully they hadn't dug too deep in their questions on where he had been all morning. He wasn't ready to talk about it in the way they would probably want to when they heard it.

He had spent the rest of the day helping the others look for anything that might help them in all the books and papers they had gathered around themselves. This was Sam's area of expertise. He practically lived for research.

But Sam wasn't here and now Dean was left to try and fill the void that was left in Sam's wake, research wise. It just wasn't working. It wasn't his thing. Give him something to fight or kill and he was at it like a moth to the light.

It had been difficult, to say the least, to sit there and read all afternoon, but he had done it. It all was for Sammy after all. With that in mind, he had read till he was almost blue in the face and knew more about Spokane than he had ever wanted to.

Now he was alone. The others had left to return everything they had borrowed from the library and to go find something to eat. He had given them the excuse that he was tired and just wanted to sleep. They had easily given in, thinking about how just days ago he had been in a coma. They had promised to bring him something back for later.

Outside, the sky flashed as thunder boomed. It was another omen. He thought of Sam and this morning.

When he had seen Sam, he had been so excited to see him that he had ran right at him, not thinking about how his brother would react. How could he have guessed that his own brother would run from him? He never would have thought that. Even though he knew he had hurt Sam he hadn't thought it would drive them apart to the point of Sam running from him.

When Sam had fallen, his big brother instincts had taken a back seat to his need to know why Sam was running from him. Pinning his brother to the ground probably hadn't been smart and probably hadn't helped his case then and even now.

He remembered how Sam had called him a demon. Why would Sam think he was a demon? When his dad had told him everything that had happened while he was unconscious in the hospital, he had mentioned how during their last confrontation the demon had said that it was good that Sam didn't remember him. Maybe the demon was messing with Sam's memory; making him believe things that weren't true. Maybe that's how he had gotten Sam to follow him.

After his denial of being a demon, he had thought that Sam was giving him a chance by not struggling anymore. But it was just a ruse to catch him off guard. He had been flying through the air before he even knew what he was feeling. Worst thing of all, Sam hadn't even touched him.

The next thing he had seen was Sam grinning evilly. If there was one thing he didn't ever want to see again, it was that grin on his baby brother.

Lying there paralyzed on the ground, he had still been trying to comprehend how Sam had flung him away without a touch, when Sam had then grabbed his gun without actually grabbing it. It had moved of its own accord into Sam's outstretched hand.

What had happened to Sam? What had the demon done to him?

Sam's confusion about the gun still had him thinking. It was as if he had been expecting him to have another gun. But why would he be looking for a gun in the first place? Something told him that this was big, but what part could a gun play in this whole thing?

He thought back to the dream he had seen about this morning. Vaguely he remembered seeing a gun and a hand taking the gun off of a bed.

Wait a moment.

The more he thought about it and the clearer the memory became, he realized that he had seen that bed before. It looked like the ones in their motel room. The covers were the same color, the same shade of bright forest green. He had not seen that particular color at any other motel he had stayed at, and he had stayed at his fair share of motels over the course of his life. Not only was there that, but the glimpse of carpet that he had caught sight of in the dream was the same color as the carpet in their motel room. He thought back to the gun.

Could that gun be the one Sam was looking for? It was a rather unique gun from what he could recall of the dream.

If that was the gun Sam was looking for and it had been on a bed at this motel, then that meant that someone at their motel had it. He knew that he didn't have a gun like the one in his dream and neither did his dad. He had spent countless hours cleaning their weapons and he would know if his dad had a gun like that. That left Bobby, Daniel and the rest of the motels occupants.

That was just great. They had one messed up Sammy looking for a gun, willing to do who knows what for it, and the aforementioned gun somewhere in this motel.

He thought back to what had happened after Sam had magically grabbed his completely normal gun. Sam had raised his hand again and had meant to do something but it hadn't worked. What had he been trying to do? She had said that Sam needed more practice that he hadn't done whatever it was he trying to do before. Eventually Sam had just resorted to making him sleep. He knew that Sam had forced him because, while the short run had tired him out, he had not been feeling tired enough to fall asleep at that moment. There was too much adrenaline in his system at the time.

What was going on with his little brother? The brother he knew couldn't fling people around with a thought, move things with the flick of his hand, and put people to sleep. What was his brother becoming?

He thought of the girl. She was pretty in her own right; long dark hair, pale skin and shining eyes. Why was Sam walking around with her like she was his best friend? The Sam he knew was more than shy around girls, still as awkward as ever. The whole thing didn't add up. But why should he expect it to when the yellow eyed demon was involved?

There was still one thing that was pulling at his mind. Why had he had the dream in the first place? He had never in his life had a dream that came true like this one. It was very suspect, especially considering the circumstances.

A crazy thought came to mind. What if Sam had seen that same dream? What if that was why he had been expecting him to have the gun? Looking at the dream from Sam's perspective, he could easily see why Sam would think that he had the gun.

"_Maybe it wasn't him you saw." _

The girl had said that in response to Sam's confused expression about not finding the right gun. It was more than enough to point toward them both seeing the same dream. He wouldn't be surprised if that was one of Sam many "talents" what with everything he had shown Dean this morning.

What bothered him was why he had seen it too.

He lay back on the bed and closed his eyes. Maybe when he woke up, things would make more sense…

_There was a gun on the bed. A hand reached down and grabbed it._

_The hands that grabbed it put the gun in the waist band of their jeans against their back and pulled their shirt over it, hiding it from view. They put on a large coat and turned around. _

_It was an older man. He had sandy blonde hair and looked to be in his forties or fifties. He walked to the door, his strides strong and with purpose. It didn't look like there was anyone else in the room with him. _

_The man opened the door and looked behind him one last time, pausing, before opening the door and stepping outside, the door closing behind him._

_The room was silent…_

* * *

Sam woke up.

Now he knew what the man looked like. He had been wrong in thinking that the demon who was possessing Dean had the gun. He could understand why he had thought so though. Both dreams had started the same.

He wondered why his previous dream had gone so differently. It had apparently started the same and then changed midway. He thought harder.

Why would the Dean demon be mixed up with the dream of the man with the gun?

Maybe his dream was trying to tell him that Dean was somehow connected with the man, that maybe he knew him. Maybe Dean didn't have the gun, but instead knew the man who did.

He needed to find Dean, or even just follow him. Dean would lead him to the man with the gun.

Judging by the fact that he had been at the park, he was still in the area. He had to be close by. In fact, if he was a demon, then he had to be _really_ close by.

If Dean was being possessed by a demon, which he was sure Dean was, then he would surely have come through here.

After all, this warehouse was practically demon central right now.


	16. Chapter 16 Don't trust me

**Hey again! Just to let you know, so you don't think I created everything out of thin air, I got all the Indian legends from this website: www . wellpinit . wednet . edu / sal-myths / ?iinclude=.. / sal-myths / si _ myt04 . txt **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 16**

**Don't trust me**

*****

_I don't know what's wrong with us  
They just made us this way  
There's a hole in you and me  
That pulls us together  
I know we're not like everyone  
You and me we grew, under a bad sun…_

_Bad sun, The bravery_

* * *

**December 10****th**** 2000**

When Dean woke, his mind was alert. He had dreamed again last night. The dream had started the same way as the other one, but this time instead of switching to the park, it had stayed with the man in the room with the gun: Daniel Elkins. That solved the mystery of who had the gun. Now the mystery for him was why the gun was being sought after by Sam and why the gun seemed so special.

After yesterday's experience, he was more certain that what he was seeing was the future. It still bothered him why he was seeing them. He saw what happened to people who claimed to see the future and he didn't want to end up in some mental facility.

He turned onto his side and took in a sharp breath. His dad was sitting on the other bed watching him. It was kind of creepy he had to admit.

His dad watched him for a minute more before speaking.

"Morning," he said simply.

Dean sat up.

"Where is everyone?" he asked.

"They went to the library to get stuff on Indian legends and what not," John answered.

Dean ran a hand over his face.

"You didn't go with them?" he asked curiously.

John smiled slightly.

"Nah," he said softly. "I wanted to talk to you."

Dean looked at John warily. The last time they had 'talked' things hadn't gone so well.

"I know I've made some mistakes," John said. "Big ones-"

"Dad," Dean said interrupting.

"I want you to hear this Dean," John said seriously.

Dean sighed and sat back against the headboard.

"Your mother was the world to me Dean," John said looking up at the ceiling. "I loved her so much and when she died Dean, a part of me died too."

Dean watched his father with a strange sense of curiosity. In all his years with the man, he had never opened up like this. It was almost scary.

"Mary, she was the caring sensitive one, the good cop," he said. "Me, I'm the bad cop, all tough and serious. Together we were the perfect match. But when she…died…all that was left for you guys was me, the tough guy and I only got worse after everything."

He took a deep breath.

"I did the best I could considering all that happened," John said. "It was so, so hard Dean."

Dean looked down at his hands. It was hard for him to see his dad so open.

"I'm not perfect, never said I was," John said, "But I should have tried harder. I should have been there for you guys more than I was."

"I just wanted to keep you both safe," he admitted. "I can't change anything, and it's probably too late to do anything now..." he trailed off.

Dean looked up from his hands and looked at his dad. If his dad was being all emotional then he could be that way too, at least while it lasted.

"Don't say that," Dean said, filling the silence between them. "We'll be fine, Sammy will be fine. We'll get thought this."

He paused, putting his words together in his mind.

"You made us strong dad," Dean said at last.

His dad only shook his head.

"You don't understand Dean," he said. "I don't think we'll get Sammy back."

Dean frowned at his dad.

"How can you-"

"Remember when you asked why the demon would want Sam so much and I didn't say anything?" he questioned.

Dean nodded.

"Sammy _is_ special Dean," John admitted. "When Mary died that night, that demon wasn't there for her, he was there for Sam."

Dean's mouth dropped pen.

"What are you saying?" he asked.

"That demon…did something to Sam," John said. "I'm not sure what, but he marked Sam for something big. He has plans for Sam and they can't be good."

"I didn't want to say this to you because of what it would implicate," John said.

Dean looked confusedly at his dad.

"And what is that?" Dean said.

"That Sammy is becoming evil," John said sadly. "That we might have to kill him ourselves before he does anything that we'll all regret."

A look of outrage suddenly came to Dean's face.

"Kill Sammy?!" he shouted. "I won't give up on him!"

John looked at dean sadly, defeat in his eyes.

"Would you let Sam stay out there killing innocent people and doing who knows what else?" John asked. "Do you think he would like that?"

"How would you know?!" Dean shot back angrily. "You've never really cared what he wanted before!"

Dean couldn't stand to look at his dad. He crossed his hands across his chest. He knew that was a low blow, but he was just so hurt by the idea that his own father would suggest killing Sam; it was just how his anger manifested itself.

"I know Dean," his dad admitted. "And I'm sorry for that, I really am, you don't know how sorry I am, but we have to think with our brains this time, not our hearts."

The Sammy Dean knew would be horrified at the thought of killing people and working with demons. His dad had a point, however much he disagreed with the overall idea. The Sam he had met at the park yesterday had been so different than the person he knew, yet also the same.

When he was laying there paralyzed on the concrete, he had caught a glimpse of a scared and lonely person. Sammy was still in there, however deeply buried. There had to be a way to bring him back. He wouldn't accept anything less.

"You may be right, but I won't kill him," Dean said resolutely. "I will save him dad, I will bring him back."

John nodded sadly at him.

"You do that," he said. "But if that doesn't work, you remember what I said."

The sound of a truck approaching got his dads attention. He got up and went toward the door.

"Did you tell Bobby and Daniel about this?" Dean asked.

John stopped and turned back to Dean.

"I had to," he said. He turned back toward the door and opened it.

Dean stared at his hands. Would he be able to kill Sam if it came to it?

The thought was too horrible to bare.

* * *

Sam stared at the door, waiting for it to open. Ruby had not come yet. He was alone in the darkness, sitting up in his bed leaning against the wall. He had been awake for a while now. In the darkness, alone with his thoughts, he had gone over the events of yesterday and all the things he had learned about himself and his abilities.

It was amazing and frightening at the same time. The things he could do! They were awe inspiring. He couldn't believe he had gone through his life so unaware of his potential. The more he thought abut everything he was capable of, the harder it was for him to hold to his promise of killing himself when it was all done.

He could kill demons! Imagine how much good he could do with that ability. He could not only rid the world of yellow eyes but also his followers as well. With his powers he could also take on other supernatural beings. He could cleanse the world.

How could he even think of killing himself with the powers and abilities he had? It was a disservice to the world.

He thought about the Dean demon. Maybe he didn't need to go take care of him just yet. The more he thought about it, the more he believed that it was all a part of Azazel's plan. Maybe he allowed a demon to take possession of Dean so that he could send him back to his father and have him act as some sort of mole. It certainly was food for thought.

Suddenly, the door opened and the lights came on. Ruby came into the room. She had a smile on her face.

"Hi Sam," she greeted.

Sam smiled back, putting all his thoughts away for the time being. In his mind he imagined the door closing behind her. She didn't notice.

What he was about to do, would make or break Ruby, but it had to be done. Big things were going down soon and he couldn't afford to have anyone with questionable loyalties in his way.

"I'm really sorry for this Ruby," Sam said.

Ruby looked at him confused, her smile slightly diming.

"I have to know," Sam said standing up.

He raised his hand. Before Ruby could protest, she was thrown backwards and pinned to the wall. Ruby's eyes spoke volumes about the fear she was feeling at this unexpected turn of events.

Sam closed his eyes and concentrated. He had to know where her loyalties lay and this was the one sure fire way to know.

He delved into her mind, sorting through her memories and emotions. He was on a rampage for answers and he would get them no matter what it took.

* * *

All was quiet in the room as the four men read their various books and compared notes. Dean sat on the farthermost bed, while his dad and Daniel were sitting on the other bed. Bobby was sitting in the room's only chair.

They were looking for something, anything that would tell them what made Spokane so special so as to warrant a demon gathering of the current magnitude.

Presently, Dean was reading an old book about the Spokane Indians and the legends they had cultivated. It was fairly interesting but not nearly as helpful as he wanted it to be. He had read about how the moon was stolen by a coyote, how a salmon had a defeated a rattlesnake (That one kind of boggled his mind), and now he was just finishing up the legend of how the Spokane river was formed. According to this legend, the river was formed by an escaping dragon which had left a trail all the way to an adjacent lake which then emptied into the trail. He hadn't known that dragons were in Indian mythology too.

He turned to the next chapter. It was about how Spokane itself was formed. He read on. According to this legend, Spokane was originally covered by a large lake and surrounded by villages. He skimmed over the parts talking about how plentiful the lake was with fish and how happy the people were. He skipped through until he got to the part where the action happened.

_One bright morning tragedy struck. The earth started rumbling and shaking. The startled Indians fled before the waters as huge waves pitched into the air, overturning boats and engulfing villages. The game suffocated as they tried to escape to higher ground. Many died of starvation and thirst. Then the earth sucked the whole lake into the "Below World." _

_The lake was gone._

Now that was more like it. The rest of the legend mentioned how the people that were able to survive followed a tiny trickle of water to where Spokane is now and settled there. After a tough winter, they were able to prosper in the land once again.

The last part was all good and well, but what really caught his eye was the part where the lake was swallowed into the "Below World." There was a reference to a map of the lake in the index. Dean turned to the listed page.

On the page, a map of the lakes previous assumed borders was overlaid on top of an old map of Spokane. On this map, Spokane was much smaller than it was now. Taking the main landmarks that were similar between the two, he grabbed the large map of Spokane county that they had laid out once again on the bed behind him. Taking a marker, he traced as best he could the borders of the lake as drawn in the book, trying to match up the landmarks as best he could. On the modern map, the city of Spokane was just to the right of the center of where the supposed lake was. He circled the area at the center of the lakes borders. It was just outside of the city, where the hills rose up, just west of what was left of the Spokane River as it narrowed before entering the city.

Maybe it was a dead end, maybe it was his hopeful mind making something out of nothing.

"You find something Dean?" Bobby said noticing how Dean had grabbed the map suddenly.

Dean looked up from the map and at Bobby.

"Maybe," he said. "I found an Indian legend that mentioned a lake that once covered Spokane that was sucked down into the "World Below."

John and Daniel perked up at the mention of the "World Below." In many cultures, the world below was associated with death and the journey there after. In their particular area of knowledge, the world below could be seen as hell.

"I traced the borders of the supposed lake that are drawn in here," he motioned at the book, "On the map we have. Deepest part of the lake would make sense to be the draining point right?"

The other hunters seemed to shrug their shoulders. They were no experts on geology and lake systems.

"The center of where the lake was, is here," he lifted the map up and pointed at the spot. "It's right outside the city."

The other men seemed to think for a moment.

"What do you expect is there?" Daniel said, motioning at the map.

Dean looked at him, then at the others.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But I figured that with demons gathering here and a reference to a lake draining to a world below, could at least be a little bit connected, right?"

Bobby seemed to be thinking very deeply.

Dean sighed. Now that he thought about it, it seemed silly. What would a lake disappearing years ago have to do with demons now? That was, if the lake even existed in the first place. Who did he think he was going off like that: Sam?

He sighed and put the map on the bed beside him.

"You might be onto something," Bobby said.

Dean looked at Bobby.

"Why don't you say we check it out," Bobby suggested.

Dean was taken aback. Bobby actually thought there was something to it? Maybe he did have an eye for research after all.

"Really?" he asked, just to make sure he heard right.

"Yeah," Bobby said. "It won't take long and then we'll know for sure."

He looked at the two other men.

"I'll get some food too."

They nodded.

Dean grabbed the map and the book and followed Bobby outside.

"We better take my truck," Bobby said. "You look at the map."

Dean nodded.

Perhaps this was all a wild goose chase. But even then, it felt good to be out doing something instead of sitting in the motel room reading books.

* * *

Sam sat on his bed as he looked at Ruby's slumped over form. He had put her to sleep. Who knew if she was actually sleeping though? She had said that demons didn't sleep. But he wanted to be able to see her, without having to talk to her, so he did what he could think of without hurting her more: he made her sleep.

The things he had seen in her mind were enough to give him food for thought for weeks, but he didn't have that long to work it all out. In his search, he had found that there was so much more at stake than just what the yellow eyed demon wanted. There was another demon, and they were much more powerful than Azazel.

In all of this, Ruby was just a guide; meant to steer him in the right direction and make sure he did what everyone expected of him. She wasn't originating any of these plans. She was merely cooperating under the threat of hell.

Judging from her memories, hell was more than even the most morbid human mind could dream up. If there was anything that would make someone do something they absolutely didn't want to do no matter how much, hell was one of these things.

She was definitely being used as much as he was. They really were kindred spirits. They hadn't chosen to be what they were. They were victims of circumstance. What made things worse for Ruby was that she remembered her years as a human. Earlier, when he had asked her if demons could remember being human she had told him that they could not, but that she was different.

Her circumstance had been heart wrenching and tragic. While she had been human, she had been blessed with a wonderful life. She had amazing parents, seven younger siblings she loved so much, and a betrothed one that she was looking forward to marrying when she reached the right age. All that went upside down, when the plague had hit her small village.

One by one her family members had fallen ill. Eventually, she was left taking care of her remaining siblings after both her parents succumbed. Though she knew witch craft was horribly wrong, she was desperate to save what remained of her family. It was when her betrothed caught the illness that she finally acted. She had searched her village high and low and somehow was able to find a spell book that told her how to summon a demon. It was then that she sold her soul for the life of her beloved and her remaining family.

Her happiness didn't last long before she was called a witch and burned at the stake, the ten years she had bargained for gone in the flames of the fire that claimed her life. The village people had noticed how her siblings had suddenly gotten better along with her fiancé and became suspicious. No one survived the plague.

Now she was paying for her desire to save her family by living out eternity as a demon.

He looked at her sleeping form. She had been through so much, done so much she was sorry for. He didn't want t become that way, used against his will, and he certainly didn't want Ruby to live that way anymore.

Concentrating on one of her happiest memories, he sent it to Ruby, hoping that maybe for once she could dream and dream about something happy.

* * *

It had only taken minutes to get to the area that Dean had marked on the mp. It was a relatively wooded area. Snow covered everything. It was a veritable winter wonderland. On their way there, the houses and buildings had tapered off until there was nothing.

Up ahead to the right, a sign rose up from the snow.

_Riverside Memorial Park._

As it turned out, almost all of the area that Dean had circled turned out to be one large cemetery. It certainly was food for thought. In the past they had faced many situations that started and ended at cemeteries.

Perhaps the demon wanted to bring someone back to life that rested in this cemetery? That was the theory that Bobby had come up with. While it wasn't a bad theory Dean just felt that it wasn't quite right.

Why would you need a gun to bring someone back to life?

But then again, Bobby didn't know what Dean knew. He had to tell them about the dreams and the meeting with Sam. Keeping this secret wouldn't do anyone good. With everything that was being revealed. Dream by dream, day by day, his dreams were becoming more and more relevant.

He just didn't want to face the fact that Sammy was in fact going evil. He didn't want to validate the idea that they would have to kill Sam.

It just hurt too much.

* * *

Ruby looked around herself. She couldn't believe it. She was home!

From the beams in the ceiling, to the small windows, and brick walls, it was everything she remembered.

"Ruby," a woman called from another room.

Ruby knew that voice. She went to the kitchen.

"Mother," she said. It was so hard seeing her again. The last time she had seen her mother, she was dying from the plague. It hadn't been an easy death and was not how she wanted to remember her mother, but it was the last time she had seen her. That was one of the last memories of the woman she had. But here she was, healthy and alive, her graying hair done up in a loose bun, her rosy cheeks full of life.

How was this possible?

She rushed up to her and hugged her tightly.

"Ruby?" he mother asked. "What's wrong?"

A tear fell onto Ruby's cheek.

"Nothing mother," she answered. "I'm just happy to see you again."

Her mother smiled.

"If only you would be this way every time you saw me," she joked.

Ruby laughed softly.

"Well, get on with it," her mother said. "Albin will be here soon, and we can't leave him hungry."

Albin?

It couldn't be? Then again, with everything in front of her, it wasn't so unbelievable. Reveling in atmosphere of her old home and family, she set about preparing food like as she had done everyday all those years ago.

It was soothing to say the least. How many times had she dreamed she could back and see her family one more time?

Soon the food was prepared and in the nick of time. A knock at the door alerted them to their new arrival. Ruby's mother smiled at her knowingly.

"You get that Ruby," she said. "I'll round up everyone else."

Only to eager to reply, she bounded to the door and opened it happily. On the other side was a tall young man with dark hair, a serious tan, and a mischievous smile.

"Albin!" Ruby explained.

He responded by bending down and planting a chaste kiss on her cheek. This was the 13th century after all.

Behind her, the house had suddenly gotten much noisier as all the kids came into the kitchen practically bouncing off the walls. The last one to trial in was Ruby's father. He was a worn man having farmed all his life. He nodded at his daughter before entering the kitchen.

Ruby turned back to Albin.

He reminded her a lot of Sam.

Sam!

The sudden thought broke the scenery around her and before she knew it, she was opening her eyes to the sparse little room with the bed in the corner.

Sam was watching her from his bed looking rather lonely.

Feeling the ground beneath her, she found that she was sitting on the ground rather haphazardly, leaning against the wall.

"What was that?!" she asked looking around herself and breathing hard. "What did you do?!"

Sam tilted his head.

"Were you able to dream?" he asked.

Dream?

"Did you…put me to sleep?" she asked warily.

Sam nodded.

"I'm sorry for earlier," he said. "I just had to know."

Ruby looked at him angrily.

It had been a very demon like move for him to ravage her mind like he had so easily done.

"I…felt bad," Sam went on. "So I tried to give you a dream…"

Ruby frowned. What she had seen wasn't like any dream she had had as a human. She had been able to interact with her family of her own free will. She had been free to control herself. Maybe the reason why it had been so different was because she technically couldn't sleep. She had never heard of demons sleeping before.

"Did it work?" Sam asked. "Did you dream?"

What she had seen had been so much better than any dream she could have ever created herself. It was like being able to go back to the past and relive everything. Any normal human would have dreamed a normal dream Ruby figured. It had to be because she was a demon that she was able to see what she able to see in the way she had seen it.

She still remembered the agony of having her mind forcefully searched, but if it proved to Sam that she was loyal and gave her the ability to see her family again, then it was more than worth it.

She nodded.

"In a way," she answered.

"Are you mad at me?" Sam asked. He looked every bit the innocent boy he had looked when he she first saw him. How could she resist those sad eyes? Especially now that they reminded her of her first love?

She shook her head.

"I wish you would have trusted me," she explained. "But I understand."

"Thank you," Sam said softly. In her short time with him, Ruby had never heard him speak so softly. This was a different side of him. ""It's just so easy to give in."

Ruby nodded.

"I know," she agreed. "But sometimes it's all you can do to survive. Sometimes, you can't resist what you are."

Sam looked at Ruby strangely but nodded. It was hard to know what he was thinking.

"We do this together," Ruby stated suddenly.

Sam considered her words for a moment. Ruby watched him curiously. What was he thinking about?

Eventually Sam spoke.

"Together," he answered.

Ruby smiled at him. Finally she had his trust.


	17. Chapter 17 Death and all his friends

**Hi! Another chapter chocked full of action and evil Sam. Just a head's up for you all, after Sunday, this story will be going on hiatus until Christmas Day. I'll be going out of town to visit family and I won't have a realiable internet connection while I'm gone, if i'll have one at all. Sorry!**

**

* * *

****Chapter 17**

**Death and all his friends**

*****

_I know we've got it good  
But they've got it made  
And the grass is getting greener each day  
I know things are looking up  
But soon they'll take us down  
before anybody's knowing our name…_

_All the right moves, OneRepublic_

* * *

**December 11****th ****2000**

Ruby sat by his side, watching him as he slept. She brushed his hair out of his face and thought of everything that he had been through. Last night after their breakthrough on trusting each other, Sam had broken down and told her everything about what had happened to him in the past few weeks. He had poured his heart out to her and been so honest that it almost broke her heart.

It was too bad really.

_Ruby._

Azazel was calling her.

She looked at Sam and sighed. He was one small fish in an ocean of sharks. If he ever hoped to survive this whole ordeal, he was gonna have to toughen up and not show any weakness. While he had almost had her fooled for the past few days, yesterday had only shown how weak he was as his core.

She liked Sam. Really, she did. Everything he had seen in her mind was true; all the emotions and feelings. But this was a matter of survival. She hadn't lasted for centuries by being soft and she didn't intend to start now.

_Ruby._

He was getting impatient.

She stood up, still looking at Sam. He made her remember all the good things about being human. He was very special and she wanted to see him live through this. He was a good person, but he had a tough road ahead of him. For that reason, she would do one thing for him. It would be a hard lesson, but it was one she had had to learn herself. Hopefully, if he learned it now, he wouldn't make the mistakes she had made.

She hoped he would understand and would someday be able to look on their time together at least somewhat fondly. He was so innocent, no matter what he had gone through in his 17 years.

She bent down and ran a hand across his cheek. He leaned into her touch unconsciously. Ruby sighed. In another life, they might have had a chance together. But this was no such life.

Retracting her hand, she abruptly turned away and left the room.

* * *

_He was back in the forest again. This time he was already at the stairs. His journey was quite hazardous. Some of the steps had disintegrated and were unstable. Others rose up unexpectedly. On both sides of the path, the trees brushed against his body._

_Suddenly there were voices; dozens and dozens, maybe even hundreds, all whispering at him in the darkness at the same time. He looked up at the sky. It felt like it was raining, but he couldn't see any visible signs of it at all. He pressed forward._

_Suddenly he not only was hearing voices, but seeing things. All around him, faces suddenly appeared all looking at him accusingly. As if asking why he was trespassing on their land._

_He took a deep breath and moved forward. A voice louder than the rest that seemed to echo inside his head suddenly spoke. _

"_Why are you here?"_

Sam groaned as he finally woke up; another day, another dream.

He sat up noticing that the lights were on for once.

Where was Ruby?

* * *

"_Why are you here?"_

Dean's eyes shot open as he suddenly sat up in his bed. How creepy was that?

"Dean?"

Dean looked to where the voice was coming from. It was his dad.

"Are you ok?" he asked worriedly.

Dean looked around the room. As usual, the sky outside was cloudy and stormy. Judging by the way Bobby and Daniel were standing by the door, either they had just come in or they were just leaving. They all looked at him waiting for his answer.

"Yeah," he replied. "Bad dream is all."

His dad looked at him for a few more seconds as if to make sure he was really telling the truth before turning back to the other men.

As Dean looked at them he couldn't help but be perplexed by the look that Daniel had given him. While he had expected his dad's gaze to linger, he hadn't expected Daniel's gaze to search him so thoroughly. It was like he knew that Dean was hiding something. It was kind of sudden; the man had yet to have a decent conversation with him, let alone know what he was hiding.

Maybe he was just feeling guilty about not telling everyone about his dreams. Maybe he was just reading into everything that was happening around him a little too much. That had to be it.

"We were just about to get something to eat," Bobby said gesturing to him and Daniel. "What do you want?"

Dean shook his head. He wasn't feeling very hungry.

"On second thought," Daniel spoke up. "Why don't you and John go?"

John shrugged and shook his head.

"Really John," Daniel said. "It would do you some good to get out for a while."

Dean watched as his dad sighed.

"Oh alright," he answered. He turned back to Dean. "Are you sure you're ok?"

Dean nodded.

"I'll watch out for him John, don't worry," Daniel assured.

John seemed to pause before nodding.

"Hey dad," Dean said. During their little conversation about who was going and who was staying, he had thought back to his bream and the stairs he had seen. "Maybe while you're out, you could see if you could find some stuff about stairs," he looked at Bobby. "You know that area we went to? See if there's anything about some stairs there."

Both his dad and Bobby looked at him strangely.

"Stairs?" Bobby asked. "How'd you come up with that?"

Dean shrugged.

"Just a thought," he said.

Bobby raised his eyebrows and shook his head. His dad only looked at Daniel as if asking him again if he was sure that he wanted to stay,

Daniel only waved them off and sat on the bed.

Looking at each other, John and Bobby shared a look before leaving the motel room. Not a minute later the sound of a truck pulling out was heard.

Now alone, Daniel turned to Dean.

"There's something in your eyes that tells me you know more than you're telling us."

Dean had to give the guy credit, but his dad didn't call this man the best hunter he knew for nothing.

"I.." Dean trailed off unsure of how to proceed. He didn't really know the man that well, to be telling him about things that were so personal.

"Dean, I've known your father for over 15 years," he said. "He cares for you both so much. That's mostly why you two don't know me."

Dean listened, confused.

"I taught him almost everything he knows," Daniel continued. "The more he learned, the more he wanted to separate you from the world and keep you safe by not letting anyone else into the family. It's a miracle he's let Bobby into your little family. Hell, it's even an accomplishment that he called me in to help you guys."

Daniel looked at Dean.

"I wish I had the chance to get to know you and your brother better, under better circumstances," he said. "I'm not as mean and tough and old as I look."

Dean shook his head.

"I never-"

"Aw, come on," Daniel said with a smile. "I know you thought it."

Dean smiled a little. So the man wasn't as intimidating as he appeared.

"It's just one of those things that hunters like me do automatically," he said. "Don't want to look weak when we fight the supernatural and all."

Dean could understand that.

"It's what you've been trying to do for the past few days," Daniel said, getting to the bottom of what he wanted to find out. "I've been doing this for years. Your old man and Bobby might let you pass, but I know when someone is holding out, you're not that good to fool me yet."

Dean was silent, considering his words. He knew he had been caught.

"If there is something you know about your brother that can help us, you must tell me," he said. "Your father is a good man, and I want to help him, but we're not getting anywhere."

Dean sighed.

"I must be crazy," he said.

Daniel raised his eyebrows.

"With our field of work, I don't think there is a sane one among us," he smiled disarmingly.

Dean couldn't help but smile back. He wished he could have known him growing up. He could have been the grandpa they never had. He looked at his hands.

"I've been having these dreams," he started.

"Was that where the stairs came from?" Daniel asked.

Dean nodded.

"Yesterday, one of them actually came true," Dean continued. "In my dream I saw a gun and Sam. He ran away in my dream and that was it."

Daniel watched him as he listened.

"It happened at a park that I drove by before," Dean said. "I went there yesterday out of curiosity, and Sam was there."

"What happened?" Daniel said.

"Well, just like in my dream when I caught sight of him, he ran away." Dean said. "I ran after him and tackled him and just…he…he flung me off."

He paused.

"Sam, he didn't even touch me." Dean continued. "Then he…he grabbed my gun, he just waved his hand and the he was holding it."

"He didn't try to…shoot you?" Daniel asked.

Dean shook his head.

"He was looking for a different gun," Dean explained. "When he saw my gun, he just dropped it to the ground."

"The next thing I know, he put me to sleep."

Daniel nodded slowly; taking in everything he had been told.

Dean watched the other man carefully. It was time to ask what he had been itching to ask Daniel since he had seen him in his dream.

"The gun Sammy was looking for was an old one," Dean watched for Daniel's reaction. "It has a skinny barrel and an inscription on it, really classic looking, an antique."

Daniel leaned forward.

"Did he say why he was looking for the gun?" he asked.

Dean shook his head.

"I had another dream too," he started, keeping his eyes on Daniel. "In it, I saw who has the gun."

"And who would that be?" Daniel asked.

Dean sat up taller in the bed.

"You."

Daniel smiled and tipped his head.

"You're as bad as your father," he said, standing up. He reached behind, pulling up his coat. When his hand came back into view, it held a gun. It had a pentagram carved into the handle.

"Is this the gun?" Daniel asked handing it to Dean.

Dean took the gun into his hands with reverence and nodded. He looked the gun over, paying particular attention to the inscription.

"What does it say?" Dean asked.

"I will fear no evil," Daniel answered. "It's in Latin."

Dean nodded. He had figured as much. Not about what it said, but the Latin part.

"Why would Sam want this gun?" Dean asked. "What makes it so special?"

Daniel sat back down.

"Are you familiar with Samuel Colt?" he asked. "The famous, inventor and gun maker?"

Dean nodded. He knew his guns pretty well.

"Well the legend kind of goes like this," Daniel said. "Back in 1835, Samuel Colt made a special gun for a hunter, like us. Apparently there were 13 uniquely made bullets that went along with it. This hunter used the gun a half dozen times before he disappeared, the gun along with him."

Daniel paused staring at the gun that was still in Dean's hands.

"I won't say it was easy and it definitely is _very_ long story," Daniel said. "But I managed to get a hold of that gun, the colt.

Dean looked at him, prompting him with his eyes to tell him why it was worth so much trouble.

"Dean, this gun can kill anything," Daniel said.

Dean looked at the gun in his hands.

"Kill anything, like supernatural anything?" he asked. "Like the yellow eyed demon?"

Daniel nodded.

"_Anything."_

Dean looked at the gun with even more reverence. Maybe that's why Sam wanted it. Maybe he meant to kill the yellow eyed demon himself. Maybe he wasn't really going dark side after all.

Daniel shook his head.

"I know what you're thinking Dean," Daniel said. "You're thinking that maybe Sam wants to kill all the bad guys with this gun and then come back to you when he's done."

Dean looked up at him with hope in his eyes.

"I'm sorry kid," Daniel said. "But what if Sam wants to get the gun so that it can't kill anyone at all. What if he intends to destroy it?"

Dean sighed. That was a possibility too. Why couldn't there be any possibilities that didn't involve anything bad?

Abruptly he felt a sharp pain in his head. He raised a hand to his forehead in response.

"You ok Dean?" Daniel asked.

Dean held out the gun and waited until Daniel took it back. He raised his, now empty, other hand to his head too.

"Yeah," Dean gritted out. "Just a killer headache."

Daniel placed the gun on the bed beside him before standing up.

"Let me see if we've got anything for that," he said.

By now Dean vision was flickering in and out, the motel room in front of him interchanging with a view of the parking lot outside.

Without any warning, the motel room disappeared completely from his view. He was now seeing the parking lot instead. The motel sign advertising the Spokane Street Motel flashed in front of his eyes before he caught sight of an opening door.

He watched curiously as Daniel Came out of their motel room.

It was another dream. Only this time he hadn't been asleep. This was the continuation of the one he had been having the past few nights.

He watched as Daniel went to the far end of the parking lot eventually coming to a stop in front of a small dark colored car that was parked there. From his vantage point, he could see that there were two people in the car: a man and a woman.

The car door opened.

Sam stepped out. He was wearing the same clothes that he had been wearing at the park, the same jeans and dark hoody. Sam walked up to Daniel and seemed to talk to Daniel, but it looked like a one sided conversation.

Why would Daniel be meeting with Sam? Had they been wrong to trust him?

He watched in disbelief as Daniel reached back under his coat and pulled out the colt. In shock, Dean watched as Daniel handed the gun over to Sam.

What was he doing?!

* * *

The vision had come out of nowhere catching him totally by surprise. He had not been sleeping, but had been very much awake. It was unsettling to know that theses dreams could come at any time without any warning.

What if he had been in the middle of something where a breech in concentration would have gotten him killed?

He rubbed his face frustratedly.

He knew where the gun was, he wanted to go get it, but he wanted Ruby to go with him. She had been in his dream after all.

Where was Ruby?

* * *

Ruby stood in the dim light of the large room. It was the main room of the warehouse where they had all met together as a group when Sam was introduced. The vastness of the room was overwhelming, making her feel small.

"Ruby," a slick voice said from behind.

Ruby turned around as fast as she could.

It was Azazel, in the body of a kindly old man. It was a bit disconcerting to see such a demon in such an angelic harmless looking body.

"I want to congratulate you," he said. "Your manipulations made yesterday possible."

Ruby smiled.

"I told you would get the job done," she said.

"And last night," the demon shook his head. "You are a tough egg to crack."

Ruby tipped her head.

"I've been practicing."

In truth, she had not had a clue whether or not she would be able to stand up to Sam's abilities to read her mind. It had been a seriously close call. He was more powerful than she had planned for. But in the end it had been enough. There was one talent she had not mentioned to Sam in all their discussions: being able to hide your deepest secrets, burying them deep within the mind so no one but you could know them.

There were only a few demons in all her years of experience that had been able to see past the image she put forth in her mind, down below to where she kept her true self hidden within her mind. It was what made her the perfect demon for covert operations such as the one she was on with Sam. Call her a demon psychological weapon if you would.

"I have found the location of the gun," the demon informed her, "I am sending Sam a vision of it right now."

Ruby nodded like a good soldier.

"You will accompany him and make sure he gets the job done," the demon said. "Make sure he rests well tonight. I want him in top shape for tomorrow."

Ruby nodded again.

How could she forget about tomorrow? Tomorrow was the reason they needed to get the gun today. Everything they had been working for would be going down tomorrow.

It would be the dawn of a new era.

"Go," Azazel said.

Ruby turned and left.

* * *

"Ruby," Sam said, "Where have you been?"

Ruby looked worn out.

"Azazel was interrogating me about you," she answered.

Sam looked up at her questioningly.

"I didn't say anything," she said.

"And he let you go?" Sam asked irrediculously.

"I only told him that I needed more time," Ruby stated, "He believed me."

Sam nodded, though he still looked a little suspicious.

"I know where the gun is," he said, moving on.

"Let's go get it then," Ruby said.

Sam smiled.

"I was hoping you would say that," he said.

Leaving the warehouse, Sam immediately started looking for the car he had seen in his dreams. They walked a short distance away before he finally spotted it parked outside a neighboring warehouse. He was able to hotwire it quickly, Dean and his dad having taught him the talent at an early age should anything happen to him and a method of escape was needed.

The sound of the engine coming to life was music to his ears. With no time to waste, he sped away from the warehouse and down the street. He knew the motel was close, but not exactly where it was. But, knowing the motels name, he knew if he asked around, he would find it in no time.

* * *

When he opened his eyes again he was back in the motel room, his head aching something horrible.

"Thank goodness," Daniel said, once he saw that Dean had opened his eyes. "I was about to call 911."

Dean looked at him suspiciously.

"Here," Daniel said, holding out two pills and a bottle of water. "This should help with your headache."

Taking the pills and inspecting them before putting them in his mouth, he swallowed them down with a gulp of water.

"What just happened Dean?" Daniel asked.

Dean looked over at the other bed. The gun was laying on top of the covers just as it had in his dream.

"You would never give that Gun to Sam would you?" Dean asked.

Daniel looked at him like he was crazy.

"After what you said about your last meeting and everything else I have heard about him, I think I would be more likely to point that gun at him than give it to him, if you'll pardon the example." Daniel said.

Dean still looked at him suspiciously.

"Did you just have another dream?" Daniel said trying to make sense of everything that had just happened in the last few minutes.

Dean nodded.

"I saw you walk out of this room with the gun and give it to Sam willingly," Dean admitted. He didn't know why he was saying all of this if Daniel was indeed was a traitor. But he just didn't want to believe that another person in their small group had gone dark side on them.

"These dreams of yours," Daniel started. "Are you sure they always come true?"

Dean sighed.

"The one I had about the meeting at the park did."

Daniel nodded.

"I promise you I am not a traitor Dean," Daniel said trying to infect his words with as much sincerity as he could. "I've been hunting too long to give in now."

"Tell me exactly what you saw," Daniel instructed. "Maybe we can stop it."

"The other day, the dream happened just as I saw it," Dean said. "I don't think you can change it."

"We have to try," Daniel said.

Dean nodded and thought hard.

"Well, it starts with that gun lying on the bed," Dean looked at the gun. It still was where Daniel had laid it on the bed. "As a matter of fact, the gun is right on that spot of the bed in that exact same position."

They both stared at the gun worriedly.

"Then you pick it up and put it back behind your back in your jeans," Dean continued. "You walk to the door then you…look back one more time, before going out the door."

As he thought about it all, Dean was starting to get a little panicky; the way the gun was seemingly already in position, the way that if Daniel were to leave the room, he would look right at him before leaving. It all made sense in his mind.

"What happens after I leave," Daniel asked, his gaze serious and calculating. Dean could tell that Daniel was looking for some way that he could out maneuver the dream, some way to break the spell.

"You walk to the far end of the parking to a dark colored car," Dean said. "Sam gets out and you two talk, then you give him the gun. That's all I saw."

Daniel was quiet as he turned away from Dean and looked at the carpet. He looked like he was trying to understand something; probably why he would give up a gun that he had worked so hard to get to someone who for all appearances and actions, was on the demon's side.

"Daniel?" Dean asked. He could tell the man was having a hard time with all of this.

"I promise I'm not on his side, Dean," Daniel burst out, repeating his previous sentiments. "I would never-"

"Daniel, I trust you."

Daniel looked up at Dean.

"Thanks."

Dean nodded.

"So what will we do?" Dean asked.

Daniel was quiet. Suddenly he stood up.

"Daniel?" Dean asked.

He watched as Daniel picked up the gun and put it in the back of his jeans, putting his coat over it to hide its presence.

It was happening.

His vision was coming true.

He went to speak out, but found he couldn't utter a word. He was frozen. Just like at the park. This had to be Sam's doing, but how could he explain Daniel's behavior? Surely Sam wasn't capable of mind control?

The sound of evil laughter suddenly echoed in his mind. It vaguely reminded him of Sam. How was it possible that he could hear Sam's laughter in his head?

By now Daniel was at the door. He turned and looked at Dean one last time, his eyes pleading with Dean, asking Dean why he wasn't doing anything to stop him.

Dean did his best to convey the fact that he couldn't move, with his eyes. He hoped Daniel understood.

He could only watch as Daniel turned away, opened the door, and disappeared outside.

* * *

Sam sat watching the motel parking lot from his viewpoint in the drivers seat. Ruby was in the passenger seat, eager as ever at finally finding the gun. It had only taken asking one person to find the motel. He had been right that it was close by. It had been less than a mile away. They could have easily walked here.

Now he was stuck here, trying to figure out how he was going to get the man to come out of the room and give him the gun as had happened in his dream. The motel room number hadn't been clear to him in the dream. Maybe it didn't matter.

"Search him out Sam," Ruby said beside him. "You were able to touch those demons minds, make them do what you wanted. Maybe that is how you get the gun."

Sam nodded. It was so obvious. This was why Ruby had to be with him. She always thought of things that he forgot.

Using his mind, he concentrated on the motel and its occupants. He had never tried to search for individual people behind walls before, no matter how thin. He wasn't sure how this would work.

Slowly he was able to identify individual energy signatures, individual minds. With a little extra effort, he was able to hear thoughts play out like he was in a crowded room filled with people. He listened hard to the thoughts he was hearing and purposefully ignored thoughts that were not relevant to his mission.

As he focused on one person's thoughts, he had the strangest sense of déjà vu. This persons mind in particular, called out to him, drawing him in. It was so familiar and strange almost like he knew this person and had a deep bond with them. The more he focused the more he was able to discern the thoughts of this person and through their thoughts, their identity.

_Dean?_

Abruptly, he cut off the connection. How could he have not known 'Dean' was here? Now that he looked at the vehicles around the parking lot properly, he saw the Impala.

"Sam?" Ruby asked, seeing his eyes open. "Did you do it?"

Sam shook his head.

"I just need a moment."

He thought of how he could best proceed. An idea struck him. Closing his eyes, he focused on Dean again, only this time, he focused on seeing what Dean was seeing. It was hacking into somebody's computer to see what they were doing.

Within seconds he was staring at an older man with sandy blonde hair and tired eyes.

_Bingo!_

He thought of what he would do next while he listened in on what they were talking about.

"_You walk to the far end of the parking to a dark colored car," Dean said. "Sam gets out and you two talk, then you give him the gun. That's all I saw."_

Dean had seen the other man give him the gun? How was that possible?

_The other man seemed to crumple under the weight of what had just been revealed. _

"_Daniel?" Dean asked._

"_I promise I'm not on his side, Dean," Daniel burst out, repeating his previous sentiments. "I would never-"_

"_Daniel, I trust you."_

_Daniel looked up at Dean. _

"_Thanks."_

_Dean nodded._

How touching, Sam thought. He smiled internally. He knew what he was going to do now.

"_So what will we do?" Dean asked._

Sam concentrated on Daniel and tapped into his mind, overriding him, and taking control of his body.

"_Daniel?" Dean asked._

He couldn't forget about Dean. Concentrating even harder, he froze Dean: he would deal with him later. He went back to work on Daniel, making him pick up the gun on the bed and put it in the waist band of his jeans. Then he made the man walk to the door.

The man proved to be stubborn as he turned around without Sam's consent. Sam quickly rectified that and forced the man to turn around and go out the door.

Still hearing Dean's thoughts, he smiled as he heard one in particular.

_Surely Sam isn't capable of mind control?_

He mentally laughed and focused on the task at hand, never letting go of his grasp on Dean and the man.

Soon he had managed to make the man walk from the motel room to the car. The man stood obediently in front of the car, still as a robot waiting for his next orders.

Beside him Ruby smiled.

Getting out of the car, Sam walked up to the man.

"I don't really know why you were with Dean, or how you knew that I would be coming," Sam said, fully aware that the man could hear and understand his words, though he was unable to respond. "I just want you to give me the gun you have under your coat."

Sam watched with eager eyes, as the man pulled the antique gun from behind and handed it over. Taking the gun in his hands, Sam admired the workmanship. Then he looked back at the man.

"Let's see why this gun is so special," he said. He raised a hand to Daniel and started shifting through the man's memories looking for any thoughts related to the gun.

On the other side of the parking lot the rumble of large truck pulling into the parking lot could be heard.

Sam focused on the man, ignoring the sound.

Behind him he could hear Ruby tapping on the window, urging him on.

"Sam!" a voice called out suddenly.

Sam cut off the connection abruptly and looked at the source of the sound. It was his father! In front of him, now free of Sam's control, Daniel kicked out, sending Sam flying backwards into the concrete.

Sam almost lost hold of the gun, but managed to keep it in his grip. Ruby jumped out of the car.

Sam looked to where his father was, standing up while he did so. He was running toward him, Bobby on his heels pulling out a gun. Daniel moved to grab Sam's arms and restrain him..

Using his powers, Sam threw the man off of himself and moved toward the car..

"Ruby!" he shouted throwing the gun to her.

She turned to him and caught the gun promptly throwing it into the car. Sam Pulled out another gun from within his hoody.

"Sam!" another voice called out.

It was Dean. Sam mentally cursed. With his loss of concentration, he had forgotten about Dean. Now dean was running toward the fray. This was getting out of hand. He paused to concentrate, but Daniel interrupted once more, tackling him to ground.

From what he could see under the car of the feet on the other side, his dad and Bobby had reached Ruby who was now fending them off. He couldn't let her risk herself for him like this.

"Sam!" Dean called out again.

Ignoring him, he concentrated hard, thinking of Ruby. When he opened his eyes, he saw that the fighting had stopped. Pushing Daniel off him and onto the ground beside the car, he stood up.

On the other side of the car, Ruby was breathing hard and sporting a split lip that was bleedings lightly. In front of her, his dad was frozen in mid punch. Bobby was standing beside him paralyzed, his shotgun held up, finger on the trigger. In front of the car Dean stood, frozen in mid stride..

"Get in the car Ruby," he told her. She nodded and quickly got in, the closing door the only sound among the now silent group.

Sam looked at everyone frozen around him. Their eyes were the only method left for them to convey the varying emotions they were feeling. Sam smiled. He could sense their fear.

"You're all afraid of me," he stated, looking at every one of them. "Not so funny when the tables are turned, huh?" he taunted.

In the car, he could tell that Ruby was itching to leave, but he still had one more thing he wanted to do now that the opportunity had presented itself.

He looked into his father's eyes and concentrated on delving into his mind. He wanted, no needed, to see why his father had treated him so callously. What reasoning did his father have that justified him in his actions?

The feelings that assaulted him once he was in, however, were not what he expected. Immense guilt so deep that he felt he would drown if he stayed battered his mind. He withdrew quickly, almost losing his concentration on keeping everyone frozen in the process.

He took a few deep breaths to calm himself before he narrowed his eyes in anger toward his father.

"You're only sorry that you don't control me any longer!" he screamed. "Why should you feel so guilty otherwise?!"

He shook his head, tears forming in his eyes.

"You never cared back when it mattered," he shouted. "You turned your back on me and now you're sorry?!"

He kicked out at the car.

"You have no right!" he screamed for all to hear.

Minutes later after he had calmed down somewhat, he looked at his father again. His eyes were begging Sam for a chance to speak, to tell his side of the story.

Sam glared at him.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" he asked.

His dad was silent.

"Speak!" he yelled.

Sam released his dad partially from the paralysis he had placed upon him.

"Sam, I know I've hurt you," His dad said in a rush. "But please give me the chance to make it up to you."

Sam scoffed.

"Your actions speak louder than words," Sam said with contempt.

"What about Dean?" his dad pleaded. "Don't punish him, because of me."

Sam froze his father once more and turned to Dean.

"Why shouldn't I punish a demon?" he said menacingly. He looked into Dean's eyes and went into his mind, searching for evidence that proved he was a demon.

Minutes passed, until Sam withdrew. As he watched Dean, he saw tears form in brothers eyes. He had not been gentle. He sagged against the car. Dean was no demon. The person he had killed was not Dean.

Dean was alive.

That only made everything he had been through worse. Everyone was playing him a fool. He thought of Ruby. At least she was on his side. He pushed himself off the car.

"You all are unbelievable," he said. He wanted them all to feel the pain he had been through. He looked around himself at the frozen statues of the people he had once cared for. What would hurt them all the most? He thought of everything he had seen in his dad's and Dean's memories. He couldn't think of anything that would hurt them more than to see him murder someone in cold blood.

He smiled.

It would their punishment to live with the fact that they had created a monster.

He turned toward the man lying on the ground near his feet. In the memories he had seen this man meant a lot, especially to his father. Sam didn't have a clue who he was. It made the thought of killing him even more bearable.

Aiming his gun expertly, he pulled the trigger. Then he calmly kicked the body aside and opened the door to the car, getting in with one swift movement.

Ruby was silent, though he could feel the satisfaction just bubbling under her skin. He started up the car and backed away. He looked at everyone, still frozen, one last time before driving away. Once he was several streets away and beyond following, he released them from his psychic hold.

How could something so utterly wrong, feel so good?


	18. Chapter 18 Into the night

**Now it's the calm before the storm…Sam isn't as far gone as you think.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 18 **

**Into the night**

*****

_Lost till you're found  
Swim till you drown  
Know that we all fall down  
Love till you hate  
Strong till you break  
Know that we all fall down…_

_All fall down, OneRepublic_

* * *

**December 12th 2000**

It was now afternoon. Dean sat on his bed not really paying attention to the food that he was eating. He was waiting for his dad and Bobby to come back from the hospital. It had been hours since he had seen them. Late last night, John had insisted that he come back to the motel to get some sleep. He had said that he didn't want Dean getting put back in the hospital because he wasn't taking care of himself. So he had driven Dean home and then promptly went back to the hospital to wait for any news about Daniel.

Dean had not slept much at all, his worry for Daniel and his thoughts about Sam keeping him up. Yesterday, As soon as the strange paralysis that Sam had put on them had worn off, they had rushed into action, checking if Daniel was still alive and then carrying his body to the nearest vehicle which was Bobby's truck. Dean and his dad had followed in his father's truck. Throughout the time that he had been at the hospital, there had been no news about Daniel's condition.

Now he waited. All alone in the motel room, his thoughts crashed about in his head. Thoughts about Sam and what he had done to Daniel, thoughts about everything Sam had said, and thoughts about how he had not been able to do anything to prevent his dream from happening. It was a lot to think about.

And to add to that, with everything that had happened, it was looking more and more like killing Sam was the only solution to the whole thing. He let himself fall back onto the bed and sighed.

His mind hurt. When Sam had gone through his head, he had ripped through it going 100 miles an hour. Random memories had come up without his consent; memories of the past few weeks and even further back. It had hurt more than just physically though. His mind was no longer his and only his.

In his head, he could hear Sam's anguished declarations of hurt and his accusing screams that were directed at him and his father. It seemed that Sam had cracked under all the abuse they had given him and turned to the only person who would take him for who he was. The fact that the person that had taken him in was a demon, one who had killed their mother no less, was a testament to how bad they had hurt Sam.

He heard the sound of an engine outside.

Taking a deep breath, Dean sat up again and then stood up. He walked over to the window to see if it was his dad and Bobby. He visibly deflated when he saw it was one of the other patrons of the motel. He sighed heavily and started walking back to his bed.

On the way there his vision started cutting out like it had before when he had gotten the vision of Daniel giving the gun to Sam. He blinked furiously trying to stave it off until he could reach the bed, but it was a losing fight. He could feel himself falling to the ground as everything around him turned black.

_He was back on the stair case again. This time he was almost at the top of the stair case. He looked down at this hand and saw that he had a gun in it. He pressed forward up the last few steps and pushed aside the trees. _

_At the top, he found that the foliage parted ways into a small clearing that was surrounded by a dense forest of trees. In the small clearing were three rows of headstones, five in each row. Straight ahead behind the headstones was a small building, a tomb or crypt of you will. There was a person standing in the shadows in front of the tomb, their back turned to him. They didn't seem to know he was there._

_Dean raised his hand, his finger on the trigger of the gun he held. He walked forward quietly. _

"_Ah, Dean," the person said, turning around, "Thought you might show up here."_

_So much for coming here unheralded Dean lowered his gun._

"_You see I figured out something," Sam said._

_Dean was silent._

"_When I was in your head yesterday," Sam said. "I noticed that you talked about seeing that old man giving me the gun. It sounded strangely like a vision I had had."_

_Dean waited to hear what Sam would say next. It seemed his questions about why he was getting these visions were about to be answered. _

"_The more I was in your head," Sam continued. "I found that we share a connection, a sort of telepathic bond if you will."_

_Sam moved out of the shadows on the tomb._

"_It seems that I've been unconsciously sending the visions that I've been getting to you."_

_Dean frowned._

"_How do you know that I'm not the one sending them to you?" he countered._

_Sam smirked. _

"_You're no seer Dean, we both know that," Sam said confidently. _

_Dean sighed. Sam was right. If anyone would have the ability to receive visions it would be Sam not him. Sam was the special one, not him._

"_Now, I was thinking," Sam said. "What if I could control this bond? What if the next time I had a vision, I could manipulate the bond so that we could both exist in the vision and talk?"_

"_Looks like it worked wouldn't you say?" Sam stated._

_Dean narrowed his eyes._

"_What do you want to talk about?" Dean asked._

_He couldn't see Sam's face clearly in the darkness which made it hard to tell what he was thinking._

"_You seem to have the foolish notion that I can be saved," Sam answered._

_Dean took a deep breath._

"_So what?" he replied._

"_It's not possible," Sam said. "After everything I've done, the people I've killed, the abilities I have…"_

_Sam trailed off._

"_Knowing this, are you so sure that I would want to be saved?" Sam asked._

_Dean stared at the place where Sam was standing, shrouded on shadow. What could he say to that?_

* * *

It was with a heavy heart that Bobby and John exited Bobby's truck and walked toward the motel room. The doctors had said that there was little hope for Daniel and that he would probably pass within the day. According to the doctor, it had been a miracle in itself that Daniel had survived long enough to make it to the hospital.

Bobby waited while John unlocked the door. Now they would have to tell the bad news to Dean.

He followed John into the room expecting Dean to pounce on them as soon as he saw them for answers. What he got instead almost gave him a heart attack.

Lying haphazardly between the beds on the floor was Dean. He was unconscious and lying on his stomach. Hurriedly, they turned him over and tried to wake him up to no avail. Bobby reached a hand to Dean's neck and searched for a pulse.

Thankfully it was there and it was strong.

"His pulse is fine," Bobby said to John. "Let's get him on the bed."

Together they pulled Dean onto the bed. John tried once more to wake him, but there was no response. John looked to bobby as if to ask him what they should do now.

Bobby shrugged worriedly.

He didn't have clue what was wrong with Dean.

* * *

"Sam," Dean said. "I don't care what you've done; I can't lose you this way."

Sam scoffed.

"You can't mean that," he said. "What I've become, everything I've done, what I did to you yesterday…it's eating at you. You can't tell me it doesn't matter."

Dean was breaking down inside, but his face was a mask of control, not that Sam could see him.

"We can work through this," Dean pleaded.

Sam seemed to think for a minute.

"Goodbye Dean," he said finally. "The next time you see me, you _will_ have to kill me."

Dean shook his head.

"No-"

"You better go," Sam said quietly. "They're getting worried."

Suddenly, the graveyard started disappearing before him.

"Sammy!" he called out.

But it was already too late. The grave yard was gone. He was back in the motel.

"Sam," he whispered miserably.

"Dean, what happened?"

Dean pushed himself up off the bed and saw that his dad was staring at him worriedly from the other bed, his eyes searching his for an answer, any answer.

"I…talked…to Sam," he answered.

He threw his legs off the bed and sat on the edge.

"What do you mean you talked to Sam?" Bobby asked. He was sitting at the foot of Dean's bed, looking every bit as worried as his dad.

Dean sighed. It was time to come clean, more than time in fact.

"I had a vision," he explained. "I've been having them for the past few days."

He watched as his dad and Bobby exchanged glances.

"You never said anything," John accused, "Why?"

Dean smiled bitterly.

"At first I thought I was crazy," he explained. "But then when I met Sammy in the park I knew they were real."

Dean watched as his dad grew redder and redder, his anger coming close to bursting.

Dean sighed.

"I know I should have told you right after they happened," he said. "But it was right when you told me that we might have to…kill Sam. The dreams only seemed to validate that and I…I didn't want to admit it."

He looked at his dad, watching as the other man slowly calmed down; understanding suddenly shining in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Dean said, looking at his hands.

He heard his dad sigh.

They were silent for the next few minutes.

"Tell us everything about these dreams," John said, breaking the silence. "Start at the beginning."

Dean nodded.

Over the next hour he told them everything. He told them about the dreams he had had about the gun and Daniel, the meeting with Sam at the park, and his side of everything that had happened yesterday. Lastly, he told them about the dream he had just had and the conversation that he had had with Sam.

In the aftermath of his reveal, John and Bobby just sat and stared at him. It was a lot to take in.

"Those stairs," Bobby said suddenly. "You told me to research stairs at that cemetery."

Dean looked at Bobby confused. Where was he going with this?

"I found an urban legend about that."

Both Dean and John were looking at him now.

"There allegedly is an old stairway that leads to a secluded area of the cemetery," Bobby explained. "The one-thousand steps, they call it."

Bobby took a deep breath before continuing.

"No one ever makes it to the top because they say that ghosts and spirits appear out of nowhere and frighten anybody away who tries to come up those steps, " Bobby continued. "From what I could find, the steps lead to a tomb where satanic rituals took place."

All was silent. Dean looked at his hands, deep in thought.

"Tonight," Dean said suddenly.

John and Bobby looked at each other then at dean.

"It's happening tonight," Dean said.

"What Dean?' John asked. "What is happening tonight?"

"Sam, the gun, the demon," Dean said. "Whatever it is their planning, it's happening there and it's happening tonight."

"Tonight?" Bobby asked.

"All my dreams happened at night," Dean said.

"You don't have any clue what they are planning?" his dad asked.

Dean shook his head.

"And this gun?" his dad asked further. "You never said why it's so special."

Dean looked at his dad. He had thought his dad would know about the gun seeing as he and Daniel seemed to be good friends.

"Daniel never told you?" Dean asked.

His dad shook his head.

"That gun can kill anything dad and he didn't tell you?" Dean asked.

At the mention of being able to kill anything, his dad seemed to freeze.

"The colt?" he said looking at Dean.

Dean nodded.

"He called it that."

"So Sam has this gun?" His dad asked.

"So you _do_ know about this gun," Dean stated.

His dad stood up and started pacing.

"I knew of the legend," he said running a hand through his hair. "But I didn't know that it was real. I never knew Daniel had found it, that son of a-"

"He must have had a reason," Bobby said interrupting.

John stopped pacing and turned to look at Bobby.

"He knew how much that gun would have meant to me," John said. "It can kill anything Bobby; it can kill yellow eyes himself."

"Well then," Bobby said. "We'll just have to go get it back now won't we?"

Dean spoke up.

"What if Sam means to kill the demon?" Dean said.

John looked at Dean and tilted his head sadly.

"How long are you going to go on believing that Sam hasn't gone bad Dean?" He said. "How long before Sam finally does something to make you believe that he can't be saved?"

Dean looked at his father angrily.

"You're always are so quick to give up on him," he said. "Don't you have at least a tiny bit of faith in him dad?"

John sighed and shook his head.

"Honestly, I'm just being realistic," he said. "You're only setting yourself up for disappointment Dean."

Dean stared at his father irrediculously.

"If you don't set your sights high, you'll never accomplish anything!" he yelled.

"This isn't how we are going to solve anything!" Bobby shouted, suddenly standing up. "We need to think this through and talk like civil people."

John looked at Dean and took a deep breath. He walked back to the bed and sat down.

"What do you have in mind?"

* * *

That was unexpected.

When the demon had sent the vision to Sam, he had expected it to play out as previous visions had. This time, Sam had taken control of it and invited someone else into it.

Of all the people, Sam had brought Dean into the dream. While unexpected, it had been very useful to the demon. He had found out some things about Sam that he had not known and a few things about Dean as well.

As it turned out, Sam and Dean had a bond and a strong one at that. Furthermore, Sam was fully capable of manipulating it. Dean was none the wiser about it all.

He had wondered why Sam's brother seemed to know more than he should; now he had his answer. What a tricky person Sam was. He was almost practically a demon for all the complex layers he seemed to have.

He had to give credit to Dean. He was one stubborn man and he was on a mission. Perhaps he could play that to his advantage tonight and have a little fun? He knew that nothing would be keeping Dean from being at the cemetery. At least now he knew for sure that he would be there too and probably with the whole gang too. It was good to know. After all he wasn't omniscient. He didn't know everything.

Never the less, even with these new developments, he was sure that everything would go according to plan. He had few tricks up his sleeves, especially now that he knew who else would be there. Sam would not be able to resist doing what he wanted Sam to do.

He couldn't wait until tonight.

* * *

Though the lights were on, the door was still locked.

Sam had paced the small room for a while until he just couldn't stand it anymore. He had resorted to finally going through the fridge. As he had stared at the food, he had realized that he wasn't hungry for any of it, though he couldn't really remember the last time he had eaten. He was hungry for something more.

Ruby still hadn't shown up. He wondered where she could be.

He thought back to yesterday and how he had been able to sense the people in the motel and had been able to find Dean all with his mind. He sat on his bed and closed his eyes. He expanded his awareness to the space beyond his small room.

When he finally found Ruby, he was surprised to find that she wasn't alone. Not only that, but he didn't have a clue who she was with. It wasn't Azazel.

He tried to burrow into her mind deeper, but found that he could go no further. Did Ruby have the power to keep him out of her mind? If she did, then why had she let him force his way into her mind?

He remembered her words about survival and not being able to resist what you were. Maybe her words had more meaning in them than they appeared to.

* * *

For hours they had talked till they were blue in the face and still had not managed to come up with anything they could do to prevent what ever is was that was going to happen tonight. The only thing they could agree on was that they had to be there when it went down. It wasn't much of a plan at all. In fact for something so serious, it was a foolish plan, suicidal even, but they had all pretty much come to terms that they might not be coming back from this alive.

John had suggested they all get some sleep before they left tonight. It had given Dean an idea. What if he could some way use the bond in the same way that Sam had? He might not be as "gifted" in the mind power area, but he sure was determined. Maybe what he lacked in ability could be made up by sheer determination.

It was something to hope for as he lay on his bed and concentrated on Sam.

* * *

It was with suspicious eyes that he watched Ruby enter the small room.

"Where have you been?" he asked her, trying to sound like he was merely commentating on the weather.

Ruby didn't think twice about his question.

"I was busy," she responded.

Sam shook his head. If he wanted answers he would have to be bold.

"Who was that demon you were talking to?" he asked.

If Ruby was surprised, she didn't show it.

"An old friend of mine had a message for me," Ruby said evasively. "I am allowed to have friends aren't I?"

"Of course," Sam said. "What did this friend have to tell you?"

Sam had a sneaking suspicion that this had to do with the other demon who was more powerful than Azazel; the one that he had learned of from Ruby's mind.

"Aren't we just full of questions today," Ruby teased. She didn't let anything get past her defenses it seemed. "It will all reveal itself in time Sam."

Sam sighed. Maybe he was reading too much into Ruby and this other demon. She was a person and he didn't own her. She was free to have a life of her own. She had only ever acted in his best interests so far.

"You ready for tonight?" Ruby asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be for something I don't know much about," he replied.

Ruby tilted her head.

"Trust me," she said. "You'll just know when you get there."

"You'll be there with me, right?" Sam asked.

Ruby smirked.

"Where else would I be?" she said.

Sam smiled slightly.

"Of course."

Sam was quiet.

"Are you ok Sam?" Ruby asked abruptly, sitting beside him on the bed. "You look a little pale."

"I'm just tired," he said, and it was the truth. He wasn't physically tired, but mentally tired. Everything that had happened to him in the past few weeks and all the things he had done, all of it was wearing on him. It seemed that he had not been able to completely rid himself of everything his old self had stood for.

Maybe Dean's words earlier had had more effect on him than he had thought. When he had pulled Dean into that dream, he had meant to taunt him and tell Dean that he was evil to the core and would kill Dean the next time he saw him. In the end, the whole thing had been a bust. He had ended up confessing that Dean was going to have to kill _him_, the next time they met.

Seeing Dean and seeing him so devoted to saving him had shaken him. It was like he had his protective loving big brother back again. As he thought about all their interactions these past few days, he saw that everything Dean had done was geared toward taking him away from the demon, toward saving him. It touched him that Dean felt he could be saved. This was the brother he had longer for and needed all those weeks ago.

He thought of Dean's plea's that he could be saved, that Dean couldn't lose him this way. Was there really hope for him?

No matter how much he wanted to hope for it, he just felt that he was beyond saving. He had meant every word he had said when he had asked Dean if Dean was so sure that he wanted to be saved taking into account everything he had done.

It was very true. If taken away from all this and given forgiveness by his family, how could he ever hope to live with himself knowing everything he had done? He would rather die than face an existence like that.

No, there was no hope for him. He had done too much; hurt too many people to ever be numbered on the side of light. He was all darkness now. There was no use fighting against it. It was all he would ever know regardless of what he or others around him did to change him.

"Sam?" Ruby said worriedly.

Sam looked at her.

"You just spaced off there," she said.

"Promise me you won't hurt Dean," he asked.

Ruby looked at him curiously.

"Dean?" she asked. "Why would I hurt him? What does he have to do with anything?"

Sam sighed. It had been an abrupt change in conversation. He couldn't blame Ruby for being so confused.

"Just promise me."

Ruby looked at him sideways.

"Ok," she said, "I won't hurt him."

They were silent for a moment.

"Sam," Ruby asked, suddenly serious. "Have you been eating anything?"

Sam looked at her funny. Speaking about abrupt conversation shifts…

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"You just look different," she said. "Like your slowly wasting away."

Sam looked at the fridge and sighed.

"I just can't eat any of it," he admitted.

Ruby shook her head.

"I may not be human," she said. "But, last time I checked you are and you _do_ still need to eat."

Sam shrugged trying to throw her off.

"I'm fine," he said.

Ruby walked to the small fridge.

"I don't want you collapsing tonight," she said.

"I told you I don't want any of that," Sam insisted.

"Have you eaten at all this past week?" Ruby said turning around sharply.

Sam looked at the floor.

"Only when you gave me your blood," he said looking up.

Ruby tilted her head.

"That doesn't count," she said.

"Or does it?"

Sam watched her walk back to him and sit back down.

"I won't pretend to understand this," Ruby said. "But it would seem that you've been surviving on pure will power and my blood."

Sam shrugged.

"You really are different you know," Ruby said finally. "Maybe you aren't even completely human anymore."

She said it offhandedly, but the words came at Sam full speed.

Could it be?

There really was no more hope for him. He looked at his feet.

"Sam," Ruby said, "Putting a hand on his shoulder. "You ok?"

Sam looked up again sharply. He smiled to put her at ease.

"I'm turning into a regular space cadet," he said, trying to joke.

Ruby smiled at him half heartedly.

"It's been a couple of days since you had my blood," she said. "You look like you could use some really bad."

Sam tilted his head as if to say that he was fine, but Ruby would not take it.

"You need something in you, and if you don't want to eat what's in the fridge, then you will just have to take what's in my arm."

She pulled out her knife and sliced her arm open. Sam looked at the knife curiously. He had always meant to ask her about it, but it always just kept getting out to the back of his mind with everything that had happened in the last few days.

He took a deep breath before hesitantly pulling her arm to his mouth. Now that he could see the blood before him, something woke in him, a fire that needed to be quenched. He closed in on the few inches that separated him from her arm and drank deeply, feeling more alive the more he drank.

Abruptly a voice echoed in his mind.

_It's time._

Random images flashed through his mind telling him how to get to where he needed to be. Still he drank. He didn't know how hungry he was until he started and now it seemed like he couldn't stop. Ruby was letting drink more than he usually did.

Minutes later Ruby pulled away. Sam looked at her retreating arm longingly.

"Any more and I'll have to find a new host," she said seriously.

Sam nodded and sighed, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

"It's time," he told Ruby.

Ruby nodded.

"You saw this?" she asked.

Sam stood up, feeling energized and ready for anything that would cross his path tonight.

"I heard it," he answered. "I know where we need to go. It isn't far."

"Let's get this done,' Ruby said standing up beside him.

The two of them left the warehouse.

* * *

"_It's time."_

Dean woke up with a start. He had not had a dream this time, nor had he talked to Sam. All he had gotten was a voice echoing in his head.

He jumped into action.

All around him was darkness. He reached over to the lamp and turned it on. His dad was lying on top of the covers sleeping. Bobby was leaning on his hand which was propped up by his elbow resting on the chair arm. Dean roused them all awake.

"We have to go," Dean said.

When they heard what he had to say, they all were suddenly alert.

"Do you know where exactly were going?" Bobby asked getting his coat on.

Dean shook his head.

"We'll just have to search the trees along the road until we find those stairs," Dean said. He pulled his coat on and started walking toward the door. "We'll probably have to split up."

John shook his head.

"I don't like this." He said.

"Just keep your phone on, set it to vibrate," Dean said looking at both his dad Bobby. "We'll call each other when one of us finds it."

They both nodded their understanding and went toward the door, John grabbing his coat before they all went out into the night beyond.

The clouds above them made them feel like the sky was closer than it really was. It was as if the sky was falling.

Maybe it was.

* * *

Silently, Sam and Ruby walked along the edge of the small two lane road. Neither of them spoke as they searchedthe tree line for the steps that Sam had seen in his dream.

A sudden crack in the trees next to them made Sam jump.

"You go on," Ruby whispered. "I'll check it out."

"Are you sure?" Sam whispered back.

"I don't want anything to interrupt us," she whispered. "I'll be right behind you," Ruby assured him.

Sam nodded in hesitant acceptance and watched as she went into the trees to see what had caused the noise.

Sam walked on, following the was no moon light to guide him. Above him, the sky was covered in dark clouds that looked like they would burst at any moment.

Gripped tight in his hand was the colt. Ever since they had left the relative safety of the car he had hotwired, he had had the gun out and at his side.

Scrutinizing the trees along the road, he searched for anything that would tell him of a path beyond. Finding nothing, he walked on. The night wind blew around him, threatening rain, snow, and other hazards from the sky. The chill in the air didn't bother him at all, though he was only wearing a long sleeve shirt and a hoody. He had a purpose and he was here to accomplish it.

As he looked hard into the trees, a gust of wind blew through the foliage revealing a rectangular stepping stone. He bent down and pushed aside more foliage and found another, leading upward through the trees.

He had found what he was looking for…


	19. Chapter 19 Sunday, bloody Sunday

**Sorry this one is later than usual. It took longer to edit than the other ones because it was much more complicated. Hope it lives up to your expectations. As I mentioned before, this story will be going on hiatus until Christmas day, because i'll be out of town and most likely away from the internet. As usual, every review gets a sneak peek of the next chapter (so long as I have an internet connection). Don't hesitate to let me know what you think or anything you would like to see in future chapters (especially all you angst lovers ;).**

**Enjoy!**

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* * *

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**Chapter 19**

**Sunday, bloody Sunday**

*****

_Take a breath, take it deep  
Calm yourself, he says to me  
If you play, you play for keeps  
Take a gun, and count to three…_

_Russian roulette, Rhianna_

* * *

**December 13****th**** 2000**

John walked along the road, his small flashlight only barely lighting his way. He didn't want the attention that a stronger light could bring, but he still needed something to illuminate his way in the darkness. Up above the moon was covered by clouds. There was no hope of simply getting by on moonlight. As he walked he looked into the trees, searching for the steps that would lead him to his youngest son. Dean and Bobby were somewhere behind him along the road similarly searching for the elusive stairs.

Thoughts of Sam flashed in his memory as he searched. He remembered the first time he had held Sam in his arms right after he was born, Sam's infectious smile that would always be waiting for him whenever he would get back from a hunt, the way Sam always seemed to trust him so unwaveringly…

That was all in the past now though.

But he couldn't help remembering. If everything went down tonight like he feared, all he would have of Sam would be memories. It was a sobering thought.

As he walked on, he saw a large square stone barely peeking out from beneath the trees. He bent down and pushed the trees away; another stone was revealed. He had found the steps!

He peered up at the stairs sending the meager light from his flashlight up the path. He was surprised to see a distant shadow of someone already going up the steps. Neither Dean nor Bobby had called, so that left only one possible other person.

Before he could pull out his phone, or make any move up the stairs, a hand reached out from behind and covered his mouth. He struggled all mightily, but the other person was stronger. Still he fought, even as he was drug away from the steps and into the trees so quietly as if he had never been there in the first place.

* * *

He was about halfway up the stairs. So far his journey had been quite hazardous. Some of the steps had disintegrated and were unstable. Others rose up unexpectedly. On both sides of the path, the trees brushed against his body. It didn't help that it was almost completely dark; there was no light to aid him.

Suddenly, just as in his dream, there were voices; dozens and dozens, maybe even hundreds, all whispering at him in the darkness at the same time. He looked up at the sky. It felt like it was raining, but he couldn't see any visible signs of it at all. He pressed forward.

Suddenly he not only was hearing voices, but seeing things. All around him, faces suddenly appeared all looking at him accusingly; as if asking why he was trespassing on their land.

He took a deep breath and moved forward. A voice louder than the rest that seemed to echo inside his head suddenly spoke.

"_Why are you here?"_

Sam pushed on, ignoring the voice, but the more he walked, the slower his progress became. It was as if some invisible force was baring his passage up the steps.

"_Why are you here?"_

Sam stopped. It seemed he would have to answer the voice before he would be allowed forward.

"I am here to complete thy master's bidding," he answered.

The words had suddenly popped up in his mind. He couldn't explain how he knew them.

"_Very well,"_ the voice echoed. "_Proceed."_

All the voices he had been hearing suddenly quieted, but the faces didn't disappear. They watched him, staring at him forlornly as he made his way up the stairs. At the top, everything was as he had seen in his dream. The headstones and tomb were all in front of him, welcoming him forward.

Walking through the gravestones, Sam moved forward as if in a dream toward the tomb.

* * *

Dean stood at the head of the stairway. He had his cell phone in hand and was calling his dad. The phone just rang and rang; no one picked up. Dean sighed. He guessed that old habits died hard, especially when it came to cell phones and his dad.

He dialed Bobby. He was rewarded with an answer after the first ring.

"I found it," he said quietly. He looked around along the road looking for any sign of Bobby in the distance. Very dimly he could see a spot down the road that was slightly lighted.

"Wave your flashlight around," Bobby said.

Dean did as Bobby asked and waved it in the direction of the light he saw down the road.

"Did you see it?" he asked, putting the phone back to his ear.

"Yeah," Bobby said. "Be there in a minute."

"Bobby wait," Dean said quickly before he could hang up. "I'm gonna go up first. Try and see if you can get a hold of dad, he's not answering."

"Not answering?" Bobby asked.

"I called him first, he didn't answer."

He could hear Bobby muttering on the other end, before the line went silent. Taking that as the end of the conversation, Dean put the phone in his pocket and pulled out his gun. With one last look around in the surrounding darkness, Dean started his way up the stairs.

As he moved forward, the air around him abruptly became much colder. Whispers started sounding all around him. He looked for the source but only found trees and darkness. He pressed forward.

A particularly uneven step almost brought Dean down, but by catching a protruding tree branch, he was able to keep his balance. As he stood still for a moment to recollect himself, the howl of the wind brought his gaze upwards. The clouds were swirling around right above him. The voices around him were steadily getting louder the further he got up the stairs. The just as in his dream, a loud voice called out.

"_Why are you here?"_

Dean stopped and looked all around himself for the source of the voice. He instantly became aware of all the ghosts and spirits watching him. It was so very unnerving. If he didn't know half as much as he did about the supernatural he knew he would have been high tailing it out of here right about now. As it was, he merely stared around in awe of what he was seeing.

"_Why are you here?"_

The voice echoed in his mind. This whole experience couldn't get any more dramatic than it already was if it tried.

"Who are you?" he called out.

The voice didn't answer.

Dean shook his head and went on. He couldn't help but notice that as he went along, the going seemed to get tougher. Eventually, he felt as he could not move any farther. Still he fought on, his determination to reach his brother greater than ever. In what seemed like hours, he had only managed to climb one step.

"You are very determined," the voice said. "Why are you here?"

Dean stopped, breathing hard. He would play this stupid game.

"I'm here to find my brother," he answered.

"Your brother seeks to help our master," the voice replied.

This was just getting better and better.

"And just who is your master?" Dean asked.

"Our master rules the world below," the voice replied. "If you seek to help the one who would help our master, than you shall be free to pass."

Internally, Dean smiled.

"I am here to help my brother," he said. It was the truth. Only he wasn't going to be helping his brother in whatever he had come here to do like the voice probably thought.

"Proceed." The voice said finally.

With that proclamation, Dean found he was able to move freely again. Taking advantage of his newly reclaimed freedom, Dean rushed up the remaining steps as fast as he could. Just as he was about to reach the top, Dean slowed. He looked down at his hand. He held his gun tightly. Taking a deep breath, he pressed forward up the last few steps and pushed aside the trees.

The small clearing was just as he remembered; the headstones and tomb just as it had been in his dream. There was a person standing in the shadows in front of the tomb, their back turned to him. They didn't seem to know he was there. However, this time he knew better.

He couldn't see what Sam was doing with his back blocking the way. Up above, the clouds were flashing with lightening. With the words of the echoing voice in his mind, he knew that what ever Sam was doing was of the devil. He couldn't let Sam go through with it.

Dean raised his hand, his finger on the trigger. It broke his heart to do this, but it was for the greater good. He pulled the trigger. The shot that rang out echoed in the silence of the graveyard.

The sound of Sam falling to the ground would forever be ingrained in his mind. He had shot his own brother! It had come down exactly to what his father had said. He would never be able to forget this no matter how hard he tried.

The sound of laughter however, brought him out of his horrified musings.

"You made progress," Sam said, his back still to dean. "You shot me, but you didn't kill me."

He laughed again.

Dean could only watch in a mixed state of horror and sadness at what he had done and what Sam had become. He watched as Sam struggled to stand. Dean had aimed for Sam's leg, but he hadn't known for sure if that's what he hit. Judging by the way Sam was struggling, he had been successful.

"You won't stop me Dean," Sam said.

He still had not turned around to face Dean. He stumbled forward. As he struggled forward, Dean caught a glimpse of a shadow of what looked to be the colt. He rushed forward, but found he was frozen again. He could only watch as Sam disappeared into the shadow of the tomb. Not a minute later, Sam stepped back from the shadows. All was quiet, then…

The tomb door suddenly started shaking before whatever was being held in burst forth from the doors. He watched as Sam stumbled backward amid the onslaught, before tripping on his own feet and falling backwards into a headstone. He didn't move after that.

Dean found himself free to move again. Sam must have hit his head on the stone. The billowing black cloud poured from the open doors and out into the sky above. Dean threw himself to ground behind a headstone and peek over the top.

What had just happened?

He looked to where Sam laid. All he could see of Sam was the shadow of a leg. He felt around for his flash light in the dirt. It had fallen from his grasp when Sam had paralyzed him. He reached all around himself, while still staying low to the ground. He had to get to Sam. Abandoning his effort to find the source of light, he shifted onto his knees and crawled out from behind the headstone. He started toward Sam when he noticed a shadow that looked very much like Bobby making a run from the trees to the tomb doors.

He rushed to another headstone and peeked over, watching as Bobby struggled to close the doors. Seeing what Bobby was trying to do, Dean rushed forward to help him. It was a herculean task, but, in what felt like hours, they managed to close the doors.

In the wake of the escape of the black cloud, lightening had burst from the skies above. As Dean stared at the door, a flash illuminated a small pentagram with a hole in the middle. It was a sort of lock. In the center of it all was the colt, still stuck in the lock. Dean pulled it out.

Beside him, he heard a strangled yell. It was Bobby. He heard the sound of him hitting a headstone and then nothing more. Dean gripped the gun in his hand and turned around. A flash of light illuminated the clearing. Sam was just barely coming to after apparently hitting the headstone pretty hard.

The sound of clapping could be heard from across the cemetery. Dean pointed the gun at the sound. It was Azazel.

"What a valiant effort Dean," Azazel said.

"I'll kill you!" Dean shouted. His heart was beating so fast, the adrenaline flowing through his veins at the sound of the demon.

"Aw Dean," the demon said tilting his head. "You wound me so."

Suddenly Dean found his arm acting of its own accord. He looked at the demon who was smiling evilly back at him.

Dean started breathing heavily as he realized that the gun was now pointing directly at Sam, who, under another flash of light from above, was now looking up at him with shock in his eyes. Dean couldn't speak.

"Maybe you'll get it right this time," Sam taunted.

Dean realized that to Sam, this all looked like Dean was going to shoot him of his own free will. He tried to speak, but the demon had seemingly frozen his mouth.

"I guess seeing your little brother open a gate to hell is just too much to take, huh Dean?" the demon taunted. Dean felt his finger put pressure on the trigger. The sky above them flashed with light again. In the brief moment, Dean had looked at Sam. Maybe it was just the light, but Sam had suddenly seemed so pale.

"Shoot me Dean," Sam said.

Dean frowned. Gone from Sam's voice was the taunting quality he had grown used to. In its place was the gentle sounding Sammy he had grown up with. Could it be?

The demon seemed to sense the change in Sam too.

"Why so suicidal now Sammy?" The demon taunted taking a few step toward them. "With your powers, you could make him kill himself before he even knew what he was doing. You could throw him into a wall with just a thought. Hell you could even just make him walk away from here and out of your life. Yet you ask him to kill you?"

Dean felt his arm move again without his willpower behind it. It moved until it was facing the demon once again.

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy," the demon tutted. "I'm not that easily defied or killed."

The gun abruptly flew from Dean's hand and into the grasp of the demon. Dean found himself thrown backwards into the tomb, his head hitting the wall painfully causing him to briefly see stars. He slumped down to the ground, momentarily shocked into inaction. With another flash of lightening to light the small graveyard, Dean saw Bobby lying unconscious against a headstone not to far away.

This wasn't looking very good at all

* * *

Sam struggled to stand, his leg throbbing in pain. With strength he did not feel, he faced the demon and stood him down. This had to end here, right now.

"All this time you have been playing me haven't you?" he accused. "The woman who gave me a ride, the police officers wife, Dean? All of it, just to get me to open these doors?"

The demon smiled.

"All that and so much more Sam," the demon said. "I've been playing you like a fiddle, but only because you asked for it."

Sam couldn't believe the demon.

"Who would ask for such a thing?" Sam asked indignantly.

The demon laughed.

"You asked for it by being so weak, by leaving yourself wide open to me," the demon said. "You were so hard to get to because of your family, but when they left you alone that weekend, all I had to do was send you a few dreams and you were mine."

Sam was silent in the darkness. Inside he was falling to bits as the lies were revealed to him. As soon as the demon had taunted Sam with the truth of his actions tonight, the feelings and memories he had been struggling to hide had all com back to him. Old Sam had come back with a vengeance, taking a hold of him and shattering the illusions that he had built around himself in the wake of his actions over the past few days. He quickly pulled himself back together. He wouldn't get what he wanted by having a breakdown.

"I didn't do this all just to have you open a door," Azazel said, continuing on. "I want you to lead my army."

Sam smirked in the darkness. It was time to play his hand.

"You want me to destroy humanity and I will not stand for that," Sam said defiantly.

The demon was silent as he seemed to think something over. He touched his head and glared at Sam.

"Why you sneaky little devil," he grit out, "You were messing around in my head weren't you?"

It was Sam's turn to smile. In the time that he had been down for the count after he had opened the tomb doors, he had been focusing on the demon and the memories and thoughts within his head. Ruby had given him good practice on breaking into minds without letting their owners know. She had been good practice because of her special gift. Ruby didn't even know what he had done.

"I could kill you for your insolence Sam," the demon threatened.

Sam shook his head.

"I too important to your plans," Sam said. "Now that you've rushed everything, you don't have any time to wait for another person like me to come along."

The demon silently fumed. It seemed that Sam had finally gotten the upper hand. It was obvious that he didn't like it one bit.

"Maybe I can't kill you, but I can certainly kill him," the demon said.

Suddenly Ruby appeared in the clearing, stepping out from the cover of the surrounding trees. Struggling in her grip was John Winchester. Ruby held her knife to his throat. There was a trickle of blood going down his throat already. It was obvious he had put up quite the struggle on his way to the clearing.

Sam stared at his father unsure what to think. While he couldn't trust the man at all anymore, and he couldn't ever see himself caring for him the way he used to, he just couldn't let him die. There were too many good memories he had of the man that kept him from completely hating him and wanting him dead.

"Ruby let him go," Sam ordered.

Ruby only smiled at him and held the knife tighter against his father's throat causing a new trickle of blood to trail down his throat. The flash of light that had illuminated her at that moment had been perfectly timed.

Sam looked at her and sighed. He had hoped he wouldn't have to do this, but she was making it very hard.

"You've been keeping secrets Ruby, big ones," he said menacingly.

He looked at Azazel.

"Did you know your most trusted ally was working with another demon higher up on the demon totem pole?"

Azazel laughed.

"The name Lilith sound familiar?" Sam said.

Azazel only laughed harder.

"For having gone through our minds, you seem to have an amazing lack of ability in putting all the pieces together," Azazel said laughing.

Sam frowned. His so called advantage was crumbling fast.

Ruby looked at Sam, the lightening above revealing her curiosity at how Sam knew what he knew. He addressed her question.

"You're not at good at hiding your innermost thoughts as you thought you could," he said. "If could hack into Azazel why would you think I couldn't do the same to you?"

Sam smiled slightly.

"I saw through you that first time," he revealed.

The flash of light in sky above revealed the heated glare that Ruby was sending him.

"Two can play this game," Azazel said. He raised a hand and suddenly Sam found his mind being torn apart as the demon scoured it looking through every memory he heard. He vaguely sensed that he was no longer standing up. Now on the other end of the torture, he felt the torment he had so willingly been able to dish out in the past few days. He should have known that it was a two way street. How overconfident he had been to assume that he was the only person capable of such powers. He had never guessed that Ruby might talking about Azazel when she listed off the many powers and abilities of demons. For one so smart, he had acted so utterly stupid.

When he finally was released, he was lying pitifully on the ground whimpering.

"Not so confident now Sam," Azazel said. "Kill him."

Sam cried out but could do nothing for his father, his head was throbbing so much that it made the effort of trying to move seem so daunting.

* * *

Bobby stood in the shadows of the trees behind where the demon and this so called Ruby stood. It hadn't been too hard to sneak away unnoticed what with how the demon and Sam seemed to like verbal sparring so much. It was all good and well, but he didn't want to spend the whole night here getting nowhere. He was just waiting for the moment to strike.

"_Kill him."_

If there ever was a moment to act this was it. Jumping out from the trees, Bobby tackled ruby from behind. The lightning flashed above. In the brief light, he saw the knife she had been holding fly through the air in Sam's direction.

It was all John needed to break away. Bobby watched as he pulled out his gun and pointed it at Sam. In his arms, Ruby struggled fiercely, quickly stretching an arm out, catching John's foot.

Another loud boom echoed in the small clearing as John pulled the trigger and fell toward the ground.

* * *

Dean finally got it all together, when he caught sight of Bobby tackling Ruby from behind. He was lying right behind Sam, out of view from the demon. He watched, with the aid of another lightening strike, as his dad freed himself from Ruby's grasp and pulled out his gun. It was when his dad pointed the gun at Sam that Dean's eyes widened. It was the sound of a bullet escaping the gun that drove him into action. He pushed himself off the ground and reached for Sam, pulling him backwards to the ground on top of him.

Sam didn't stay on the ground for long. He threw himself off of Dean and crawled forward on his hands and knees reaching for something Dean couldn't see, before standing up again, his back to Dean.

Dean pushed himself up off the ground. There had to be something more he could he do here.

* * *

Bobby struggled to hold Ruby in his grasp but she was just too strong. Escaping his grasp, Ruby pushed herself over to John and started beating the tar out of him. In the middle of all this action, Bobby looked to yellow eyes himself. Surely he would put an end to this.

It was to his surprise that Bobby saw the demon standing stock still as if frozen on the spot. Bobby turned to Sam. In the faint light of a more distant lightening strike, he saw that the boy was standing tall, an arm reaching out toward the demon. He hoped that whatever Sam was doing would work for all their sakes.

The lightning flashed again above them. Bobby's eyes widened as he saw that Ruby had gotten a hold of John's gun and was pointing it toward Sam. The sound of a gun shoot filled the air as another lightening flash lit up the area.

Bobby's eyes widened as he saw who took the bullet.

* * *

Sam was losing fast. His strength was failing him. He had used up too much of his energy on searching the demon's mind and little things like throwing people around and freezing them. That and that the opening of the tomb doors had all combined to drain him. Now he was only barely able to keep the demon frozen in place.

Suddenly a shot rent the air. He couldn't afford to see who was hit if anyone. All he knew was that it hadn't hit him. He had to concentrate. Hopefully someone would have the presence of mind to get the gun from the demon.

He knew he wouldn't last much longer.

* * *

In the light of yet another flash of lightening, John looked to the demon only to see that he was frozen in place. He looked to Sam. He had obviously not succeeded in killing Sam. In his mind, Sam had become the greater of the two evils, what with everything he had heard, and to him, it was obvious that Sam was even more powerful than the yellow eyed demon was.

He didn't have his gun anymore; he had lost it in his effort to free himself from the woman named Ruby. The yellow eyed demon stood frozen just feet in front of him, the colt still in his hands. John stood up and rushed the demon for the gun. Though firmly in his grip, the demon didn't seem to be all there. John was able to take it from the demons hands without much struggle.

Taking the gun in his hand, he put his finger on the trigger. With the demon that had killed his wife and taken his son right in front of him, he raised the gun to his head.

"Kill him already!" he heard a voice, Bobby's, call out.

Yet another shot rang out. It was not a moment too soon. Sam collapsed to the ground in a heap while the yellow eyed demon convulsed and looked at the wound caused by the gun in morbid amusement. Seconds later, he collapsed to the ground dead.

* * *

Just as he heard the gun shot, he felt his power give out. With nothing left in him, Sam fell to the ground.

"Sammy?" a voice behind him asked.

Using what little energy he had, Sam turned over. He didn't need to see the person's face to know who it was. It was Dean.

"Is it over?" Dean asked. "Yellow eyes dead?"

Sam frowned. Dean voice sounded so weak. The lightning flashed above them suddenly lighting the whole clearing. Sam's eyes widened as he caught sight of the growing bloodstain at the center of Dean's chest.

"I knew you weren't bad Sammy," he said slurring his words.

"You're hurt," Sam stated, a tear falling down his cheek at Dean's words.

Dean only smiled.

"Just a surface wound," he said. He could feel Dean fading away.

"Dean?" he asked forcefully. "Dean!"

A distant lightening flash revealed Dean openeing his eyes weakly.

"Who hurt you?" Sam asked, suddenly full of energy again.

"Ruby," Dean said, his eyes drifting shut again.

"Dean!" Sam said pushing himself up off the ground and toward Dean. He got no response this time. Taking a deep breath, tears in his eyes, Sam stood up and walked through the tombstones. In the dim light provided by the ever present lightening storm, he vaguely noticed his dad taking aim at him with the colt, but he waved his hand, sending his dad into a tombstone. He only had eyes for Ruby. When he finally was standing in front of her, she was smiling at him. The lightening seemed to die down then.

"Successful after all," she said.

Sam ignored her taunt.

"Why did you kill Dean?" he asked. "You promised."

He could sense the smirk on her face.

"I never promised to not kill him, I only said I wouldn't hurt him, those are two different things," she said.

Sam growled at her in anger.

"There are so many words I could call you right now, but none of them would convey they hate I feel toward you right now."

Ruby put her hands on her hips.

"Looks who acting like a man now," she taunted. "You sure weren't his way when you were practically begging me for my blood, or when you were confessing to me all your darkest secrets."

She smiled.

"You should never have trusted me," she said haughtily. "You trust people too easily. I haven't survived this long by trusting everyone I meet. Trust only gets you killed."

Sam smirked this time.

"Ah but you see, I never trusted you in the first place," he revealed.

Ruby frowned.

"You are a demon after all, and it is so hard to deny what you are," he taunted. "You told me that so many times, I thought that there must be a reason behind you saying that so often."

Ruby smiled.

"So you do have a brain after all," she said.

"And you thought you could fool me," Sam said, "You and your useless mind blocking powers. I got you in the end, used you for information."

"What good will information do you?" Ruby asked. "You've already set her free along with countless other demons and spirits. Everything has been set in motion, you can't stop it."

"That's what you think," Sam said. He paused before continuing. "You say everything you do is about survival, but that's not true. Your actions have only revealed you for what you really are."

"And what is that?" Ruby asked snidely.

"A coward."

"Call it what you will Sam," she countered. "But I have lived this long haven't I?"

"True as that might be," Sam said. "You crossed the wrong person this time. You won't be surviving this."

The glint of a knife could be seen as Sam revealed what was in his hand.

"A regular knife won't kill me," Ruby said confidently.

"This isn't any knife," Sam said. "You know that."

Abruptly, Ruby tried to make a run for it toward the trees. Sam raised a hand, stopping her before she had barely made two steps.

"You know that dream I sent you?" he said. "You remember what happened at the end of that memory?"

He walked around to face her in the darkness.

"Albin," Sam said. "Presented you with a gift, didn't he?"

He smirked.

"Albin the blacksmith," Sam taunted. "It was rather sweet of him, wanting you to have something to protect yourself with while you were alone. I bet he never knew what his knife would go on to do."

Another lightening flash revealed a tear falling down Ruby's cheek.

"I bet he never would have imagined how you could ever become a demon," Sam continued. "The Ruby he knew would never have resorted to witch craft to get what she wanted. Does it hurt to know how you failed the man you supposedly loved? That by selling your soul you would never see him again?"

"Did you think that by turning his gift into a demon killing knife that you could somehow make it up to him?" Sam asked seriously.

"Do you think that your mother would have been happy with you joining sides with demons, murdering people, and opening the gates of hell?" Ruby countered. Sam was slipping in his ability to paralyze her.

Her words hit their mark as Sam recoiled at the thought. With a fierce growl he plunged the knife into her stomach and watched with satisfaction as she looked at him in great pain, convulsing, as she lit up from within, before collapsing to the ground to the ground dead.

Sam stared at her for a moment before taking a deep breath. Then, in the dim light of another distant lightening flash, his whole aura seemed to sag as if he suddenly had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He looked at Bobby who was watching him warily. Sam paid no heed to him, instead walking back toward Dean.

* * *

The whole interaction between the woman demon and Sam had been very telling, but not all together easy to understand. But, from what he could make of it all, it seemed that they had both played each other. He watched as Sam stared at the now dead woman for a moment before he glanced in his direction.

In the light of a weak lightening strike, he saw how Sam seemed to change in a moment from the overconfident and conniving Sam to the sensitive and insecure boy he was more familiar with. There was no emotion in Sam's glance, he seemed to be elsewhere.

He watched as Sam turned away and went toward Dean. Silently Bobby stood up and followed Sam. Once Sam had reached Dean, Bobby looked as he dropped heavily to his knees and started openly sobbing to the sky. Another flash of lightening revealed Dean.

His heart almost stopped at the sight. Dean's eyes were closed and his shirt soaked with blood. He looked dead and Sam's reaction seemed to confirm that. He stood paralyzed by the thought.

He watched with a broken heart as Sam bent down and hugged Dean to his chest all the while crying out to the sky about why Dean had to be taken instead on him. Suddenly rain started falling from above.

Bobby couldn't seem to break himself from the trance that seeing Dean dead had seemed to put him in. He watched as Sam laid Dean back on the ground and then looked toward the sky.

_What was he doing?_

Sam was yelling, but in the sound of the rain, he couldn't make out a word he was saying. Then with a flash of lightening Sam fell onto Dean, sobbing. He stayed this way, until with another flash of lightening, he went still.


	20. Chapter 20 A bad dream

**Merry Christmas everyone! Here is my present to all of you, a new chapter! It's a bit depressing, but it leaves off in a hopeful place at least. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 20**

**A bad dream**

*****

_The sun's still shining in the big blue sky  
But it don't mean nothing to me  
Oh let the rain come down  
Let the wind blow through me  
I'm living in an empty room  
With all the windows smashed  
And I've got so little left to lose  
That it feels just like I'm walking on broken glass_

_Walking on broken glass, Annie Lennox_

* * *

Dean was…well he wasn't sure where he was. It all seemed so familiar though, as if from a long lost memory.

Behind him was a door. He was in the entry way of a house. Everything around him looked every bit like the traditional family home that he had always wondered what living in would be like. Up ahead there was a hallway. As he walked on, he noticed the pictures on the wall.

He stopped.

He knew the people in the photographs. The woman smiling brightly was his mother; the man with his arms around her, his dad. Beside that picture was one of him, in his mother's arms being smothered like there was no tomorrow. He looked around himself once more. A memory of running down this hall as a kid came to his mind along with another where he was running down the stairs, Sammy wrapped in blankets in his arms, running for the door and away from the fire.

Suddenly he knew where he was. He was back in Kansas; back at the home that they had fled from all those years ago. But how? The last thing he remembered was being in a graveyard outside of Spokane.

He turned back to the pictures on the wall. He noticed that there was someone very important missing from them all.

Sammy.

He wasn't in any of the photos. Even stranger, there were other pictures of himself that he had no recollection of ever having been taken; pictures of him playing in the snow, of holding a football, of graduating high school. In every picture, either his mom or dad, or both, were there with big smiles on their faces, pride showing through their shining eyes. But his mom was dead. These memories had never happened.

What was going on?

He walked on down the hall, toward the stairs. In the silence of the house, he heard a sound. It was coming from somewhere up those steps. Curious and hoping to find someone who could explain what was going on and why he was here, Dean quietly padded up the stairs. The sound was coming from the room that had been Sam's all those years ago. He peeked inside.

It was Sam and he was sitting on the floor brokenly sobbing.

"Sammy?" Dean asked softly.

He heard Sam suck in a breath of air. Sam turned around to look at the doorway, revealing the tear tracks falling down his face and the utter misery in his eyes. Dean rushed to Sam falling to his knees and taking Sam in his arms. He couldn't stand to see Sam this way. He had to make it better. It was his job.

"Sammy what's wrong?" he asked.

Within his arms, Sam started crying anew.

"I'm sorry Dean," he said into Dean's chest. "I'm so sorry."

Dean pulled Sam away and stared into his face.

"What for?" he asked.

Sam raised both his hands to his face and started sobbing into them.

"For everything!" he answered frantically. "I should've known."

Dean pulled Sam back into his arms.

"It's okay now, Sam," he soothed. "It's over, the demon is dead."

Sam pushed him away suddenly.

"It's not okay!" he sobbed. "You're dead because of me."

Dean shook his head, but Sam only continued on.

"I can't let you die."

Dean frowned. Sam wasn't making any sense.

"I'm not dead Sam, I'm right here," he said, shaking Sam as if to shake the away the doubts in Sam's mind and prove his presence.

"I will not let you die," Sam said, pulling his hands away from his face suddenly emotionless.

Dean could only watch as the scene started fading away around him.

"Sam, no!" he shouted, trying to grasp Sam. "What are you doing?"

Suddenly, he felt rain on his face. Opening his eyes, he found the worried faces of his dad and Bobby. He felt a weight being removed from him. Sitting up he saw it was Sam.

"Dean!" his dad shouted, suddenly enveloping him a bone crushing hug.

Dean pushed his dad away and looked at Sam who Bobby was laying on his back. He threw himself over to Sam.

"Sammy!" he said shaking him.

There was no response.

"What did you do!" he shouted, still shaking him, tears starting to mingle with the falling rain on his face. "What did you do?!"

He felt himself being pulled away.

"Dean, he's gone," John said. "It's better that way."

Dean turned angrily to his dad.

"How can you think that!" in his anger he punched his dad, knocking him to the ground. "He was fine just a few minutes ago."

He looked to Bobby.

"He's alive," he said in denial. Bobby reached a hand to Sam's neck. "He alive Bobby."

Bobby only shook his head.

"It's been too long," he explained.

"You're lying!" he shouted. He pulled Sam into his arms. "You're not dead Sammy are you? You're not dead. You can't be; I was just talking to you."

Bobby tried in vain to pull Sam away from Dean. Eventually, John was able to wrench Sam away, letting Sam drop to the ground lifelessly. Dean struggled in his father grasp as his dad pulled up his bloodstained shirt. In the light of a lightning strike, Dean bare chest was revealed. There was no wound what so ever; no trace of broken skin.

John looked to Bobby who looked to Dean.

Dean pulled his shirt down angrily and pushed them away. He went back to Sam and took him in his arms.

"Wake up," he begged Sam. "Please wake up."

Behind him, he knew that his dad and Bobby were making plans on how to get rid of the bodies, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He just sat there, sobbing into Sam's chest and rocking him back and forth as he remembered the moments that had happened just minutes before when he had woken up in Kansas.

When he had been shot, he knew it was fatal. He had been hit right in the center of his chest. The pain had been beyond anything he had ever experienced in his life. As he had laid there dying, he had thought of how everything had gone downhill, in just a matter of weeks. He thought of the time when all he had been worried about was that Sam wanted to leave them for college. Now he was facing death and losing his brother to the darkness.

In front of him, Sam had dropped to the ground suddenly. It was then that another shot rang out. A light coming from the other end of the cemetery told him that the demon had been shot. He had smiled then and told Sam that he knew that he wasn't bad. He had too much trust toward Sammy to believe that he was evil. They had all lost their path in so many ways these past few weeks. With the way that everything had gone so wrong at all the right times, it was Winchester luck at its finest.

As he watched Sam in his final moments, he saw that Sam was just very tired. He was no medical expert, but he could feel that Sam was fine, physically at least, and would live to see another day. Knowing that Sam was alive, he had been perfectly content to answer the call of the darkness that was beckoning him. He knew that he would never make it to the hospital. The last thing he had seen was Sam getting up and walking away.

The next thing he had known, he was waking up in Kansas, looking at pictures that only could have been taken in another lifetime, and finding Sammy on the floor in a miserable mess.

"Dean," A voice said breaking him out of his thoughts. "We need to go now."

It was Bobby. He made to take Sam from him, but Dean wrenched Sam away and got up on his own. Sam was light in his arms, lighter than he should have been. It only made his heart ache that much more. He looked around himself passively, noticing that both demon bodies weren't there anymore. In his grief he hadn't noticed them being moved. All he could focus on was his sadness. Vaguely he wondered where his father was.

With Bobby's help, he was able to navigate the uneven steps of the stairs down to the road. Waiting for them at the bottom was his dad and his truck. When they came into his sight, he moved forward to take Sam from Dean, but he brushed him off.

"Dean, I'll take him now," his father insisted. "Bobby's gonna take care of you."

Dean shook his head and moved around the truck to the passenger's side. Awkwardly, he managed to get the door and was working on getting Sam into the truck when his dad confronted him again.

"You're going with Bobby," he said. "I'll take care of Sam."

"Take care of him?!" Dean shouted. He made sure Sam wouldn't fall out and then turned to his father. "What are you talking about?"

He saw his dad take a deep breath.

"Dean," he said. "We have to burn his body; we can't risk him coming back."

Dean opened his mouth but no words seemed to come out, he was so shocked at hearing his dad's plans for Sam.

"With everything he did, the demon's he associated with, we have to make sure that they won't be able to get him back," His dad reasoned.

"But you can't," he said brokenly.

His dad reached up and locked the door, shutting it before Dean could protest. He stood there in shock, until the sound of the engine starting broke him from his stupor. He grabbed for the door handle, pulling at it frantically.

"You can't do this!" he yelled. The truck started moving. "Stop!"

Suddenly behind him, Bobby pulled him back, but he clung on determinedly. The truck started to move forward. Behind him, Bobby gave an all-mighty jerk, sending both him and Dean crashing to the ground.

Dean could do nothing but shout out in anger and grief as he watched the truck speed off into the darkness.

* * *

After driving for some time, John finally found a place that was secluded enough to not draw any attention to what he was about to do. He was somewhere in the mountains north of Spokane. Pulling to the side of the road, John got out of his truck. He went to the back and dragged out a man's body. It was the yellow eyed demon's host. Throwing it over his shoulder, he hiked into the forest.

Once he felt that he was far enough in, he dropped the body to the ground. In the time since the demon's death, the sky above had cleared somewhat. The rain and lightening had stopped. Gathering some wood from nearby, and keeping his salt handy, John pulled out his lighter from his pockets and set fire to the body.

Not bothering to watch, he went back to his truck and grabbed the girl's body. He set her next to the other burning body and similarly set her on fire. He sat there watching for a few minutes, not quite ready to complete his next task.

Tearing himself away, he dragged himself back his truck for the last body.

As he walked through the trees, he couldn't help but think of Sam the things Sam had done while under the yellow eyed demon's control. He couldn't look at Sam without thinking of all the heinous things that his son had done. Within his heart there was still love for his son, but not for what he had become. The moon above was suddenly revealed as the cloud covering it drifted on. It lit his way softly through the trees making his journey seem so much more ominous than it already was.

If he was being honest with himself, he would have to admit that he was glad Sammy was dead. It would have been too hard to deal with the aftermath of everything with Sam still alive. It would have been too hard to look Sam in the eye after everything he had done to the boy. He knew he had played a major role in turning Sam toward the demon. This was better, he had convinced himself. Dean would call him a coward, but Dean would never know his reasons.

The snow crunched beneath his feet as he walked on toward where his truck was parked somewhere in the darkness ahead. Thinking of his truck and who lay within, brought Sam's angelic face to his mind's eye.

This was his boy, his little Sammy, and now he was dead, all because he had been left alone at a time when he never should have been abandoned. Some father he was. He thought back to the graveyard. He had tried to shoot Sam. He had meant to kill him. If he had succeeded, then Sam never would have been able to incapacitate the demon and he would never have had the opening to shoot the demon. Even after Sam had proven himself, he still had pointed his gun at Sam.

Oh what Sam must have thought about him then, if he didn't already think it. Sam was the most forgiving person he knew, but he had done too much this time to be forgiven by Sam or to even want forgiveness. He wasn't even sure if he could have forgiven Sam for what he had done if he had lived. It definitely was better this way.

He thought of Dean. His oldest was distraught beyond belief. He didn't know what he could do to make it better if it even was possible. Surely Dean wouldn't want to stay with him with the way everything had turned out. But still, he didn't want Dean alone at this time, at least until he could be sure that Dean wouldn't do something stupid like he feared he would.

Up ahead, he could make out the outline of his truck. Sighing deeply, John closed the distance between him and his truck within minutes. He had laid Sam in the passenger seat, meaning to experience one last ride with his boy at his side.

He shook his head. He had to stop being so sentimental. He had a job to do and it was time he did it.

* * *

Bobby sat near the door, in the room's lone chair. He had been this way for hours. In the farthermost bed away from him, lay Dean. He had just quieted down after a long string of nightmares that had him tossing and turning. Bobby sat watching, instead of sleeping like his body begged of him, because he didn't want to wake up to not finding Dean in the room. He had to make sure Dean stayed here, at least long enough to let his dad talk to him.

In the aftermath of John's exit hours before, Dean had been a mess and that was putting it lightly. He had practically had to drag Dean to the short distance to his truck because the man was barely holding himself up with all the grief weighing him down. The only words he had spoken to Bobby, were broken pleas of _why?_

He couldn't answer that. He still wasn't even sure what had happened last night. When he had finally reached Dean, looked at the hole in his chest, and taken his pulse, he had been every bit the dead man he had looked. Sam, though he looked like he could collapse and sleep for the next week straight, had been very much alive. There were no marks on his body that he could find, no wounds to put right.

Thus, when Dean woke up suddenly and Sam did not, it had been so confusing. To add to that, Dean had been acting like a crazed mad man, asking what Sam had done. When they finally got to see Dean's chest, the gaping wound that had been there, was there no more. It was as if he had not been shot at all. If they had not seen the wound previously, they would never have thought he was hurt.

Bobby could only figure, what with the way that Dean kept babbling about just talking to him and his anguished accusals, that Sam had done something. Something that looked very much like he had given his life for Dean's. He didn't pretend to understand how that would have worked or how it was even possible, but he couldn't help but want to smack that boy in the head if that was in fact what he had done. Didn't he know what that would do to Dean?

At the same though, he couldn't blame Sam for his actions. With everything he had done, it had to seem to him like the only way he could make up for them. He didn't doubt for a moment that Sam was no longer evil if he had been at all. They all were a victim of circumstance. After everything he had seen at the graveyard, everything he had heard from Sam's own lips, he was sure of this.

That was why he was watching over the room's other occupant. If Sam had in fact somehow given his life for Dean, he couldn't let Dean do something stupid to waste his brother's last gift to him.

* * *

Dean looked around himself confused. He was back in Sam's room, back in Kansas. He was sitting on the floor in the same position that he had been sitting in when he had last been here, though Sam was not here this time.

"Sam!" he called out. There was no answer, just silence.

He stood up and turned toward the door. He was surprised to find that he wasn't as alone as he thought.

"Dean."

A woman stood at the door watching him sadly. She had long wavy blonde hair and kind eyes. She was wearing a white night gown. Dean couldn't believe it.

"Mom?" he said stunned.

She opened her arms wide. Dean rushed into them and reveled in the warmth she offered. "How is this possible?" he asked.

She held his arms and pushed him away from her chest, appraising him.

"This isn't real Dean," she said. "All of this, the house, this room."

Dean sighed and looked down.

"You're not real either are you?" he asked dejectedly.

She sighed.

"I'm neither here nor there," she said.

Dean looked at her confused.

"You're here because of Sam," she said.

Dean's eyes widened at the reminder.

"Where is he? What did he-"

His mother put a silencing finger on his lips.

"I know it's hard, but you have to stay calm," she said. "I don't have much time left to explain."

Dean took a deep breath and nodded.

"When Sam found you, you were dying Dean," she started. "And you would have, if Sam hadn't done what he did."

"What did he do?" Dean asked.

"He tapped into the bond that you two share and transferred his life force into you, healing you."

Dean's mouth dropped open.

"You were practically dead," his mother continued. "It took all his energy to save you. When he was done, there was nothing left for himself. He knew what he was doing when he did it Dean. He didn't want to live anymore and he figured that in ending his life, he might as well save another; give life to someone who could actually do something good with it."

Dean sighed. That was Sammy, selfless to the core and yet so misguided.

"He was wrong," Dean said.

His mother took his face in her hands.

"Don't you doubt yourself," she said. "You still can bring him back."

Dean frowned.

"But he's dead, Dad burned-"

"He has been given one more chance Dean," his mother explained. "His selflessness in sacrificing himself for you has earned him a chance to make up for all the wrong he committed while under the demons control."

Dean looked at her uncertainly.

"Where is he then?" he asked.

"He is lost Dean," she answered. "Only you can find him and bring him back. You have to convince him that his life is worth living again."

Dean stared at his mother helplessly.

"What if I can't do that?" he said. He remembered how broken Sam had been the last time he had seen him.

"If you don't, he will be doomed to spend eternity as a lost soul," she said. "Those who are lost, suffer even more than those souls who are sent to hell Dean."

"But where am I supposed to look?" he asked.

"You already are where you need to be," she said looking around them. "He is trapped in his memories," she explained. "You will have to sort through them and use them to help him find his desire to live again."

"I can't help you Dean," his mother said soberly. "This is a task for you and you alone."

Dean nodded.

"I have to go now," his mother said. "Be strong and don't give up."

She took him in her arms one last time before everything started to fade into nothingness around him.

"_I love you Dean."_

Her words echoed in the growing darkness.

"I love you too mom."


	21. Chapter 21 Already gone

**Hey again! Forget that other chapter I wrote, this one is now the longest I've ever written. I thought about splitting it up into two parts, but I couldn't find the right place to split it up and longer chapters are better anyway, right? We're in the home stretch now, just two more chapters to go after this one. Look for the next chapter to come in Wednesday. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 21**

**Already gone**

*****

_Ten miles from town and I just broke down  
Spittin' out smoke on the side of the road  
I'm out here alone just tryin' to get home  
To tell you I was wrong but you already know  
Believe me I won't stop at nothin'  
To see you so I've started runnin'_

_Life after you, Daughtry_

* * *

He walked slowly, kicking a small rock ahead of him listlessly. He was alone today and that was something unusual for Sam Winchester. Normally, his older brother Dean would be waiting for him outside the school in his beloved Impala and he would drive them to wherever they were staying.

Not today.

He had screwed things up so badly. He would forever be alone now. It was his punishment and that was that. His brother would never be picking him up from school anymore. His dad would no longer have reason to be angry at him. It was better off this way. Maybe they could have a chance at having a normal life now, without him tagging along and attracting every dark thing that side of hell.

He sighed and put his hands in his pockets. He looked every bit the lost puppy he was.

"_I can't stay here dad," Dean said suddenly. "I need a break." _

"_A break?" dad said irrediculously, "From what?" _

"_Sam." _

Dean was right to want to leave Sam; maybe if he had stayed away, he never would have died in the first place. Maybe if the both of them would have stayed away, they would never have had to see how Sam had messed up so badly. Then maybe they wouldn't think so harshly about him the way they did now.

He sighed again. It seemed to be his new habit of late.

All around him, the streets were empty. No cars passed by. The sky didn't even have any clouds in sight. It was so lonely here. He felt so alone. He thought of Dean and how his presence made everything better.

A lone tear fell down his cheek. He smiled bitter sweetly. Even his tear was alone. He shook his head.

Dean could make him believe that everything would be okay even if the devil was staring into their faces. He missed that.

He looked at the ground.

"_Are you doing this to punish me?" he asked boldly. _

"_Everything's about you, is that what you think?!" he shout out angrily, his face mere inches from Sam. _

"_No, I-" _

"_It never crossed your mind what it would do to me and Dean did it? You applying for college?" he huffed. "Why do you need all that education, a normal life?" his voice became quieter in a rare show of emotion. "Aren't we enough?" _

Up ahead, that sky was starting to darken. Sam shivered in the silence. Alone with sighing, this seemed to be another habit he had picked up in the short time since he had found himself here. He couldn't ever seem to get warm enough. He pulled his coat closer around his body and watched as his breaths turned into small clouds before fading into nothingness.

The more he felt the loneliness and the coldness, the more he missed his family. He never would have thought he would miss his dad so much. Dean yes; but dad? Never in a million years. Funny he would only learn this after the nightmare he had been through the past few weeks. All he had needed was them.

They were enough after all.

"_I wouldn't have it any other way."_

_Grandma looked sideways at Mary._

"_Are you sure?" she looked at Dean. "You don't want any more little munchkins around this place?"_

_Mary laughed and shook her head. _

"_Dean is more than enough for me," she said fondly. "Me, John, and Dean…"_

"_Just the three of us," she said, "When we had Dean I knew we were complete…"_

Lying on top off the covers, he curled up and turned toward the window, gazing at the cloudy sky in the fading light.

He had never met his grandma or grandpa. The only other family they had known was Bobby and Pastor Jim. They had become family when his mother had died.

Because of him.

In the Dream, if his mom had been happy with just Dean, then why had she had him? Did that mean that he was an accident?

He lay on top of the covers thinking these thoughts until the sky was dark and the only light coming through the shades was the dim light of an old street light.

_Warm arms turned her around to face the man she loved._

"_I love you Mary," he whispered pulling her in for a tender embrace. _

"_I love you too, John Winchester," Mary said into his chest. _

_Minutes passed as the pair stayed in their loving embrace. Nothing could have made the moment more perfect._

All was dark in small motel room. Only the faint light of a street lamp shining through the falling snow graced the room. Sam lay in a tight ball, the covers wrapped tight around him. It was as he was trying to use the blankets as a barrier against the images that were constantly playing in his mind.

His eyes were wide open, staring straight out the window and at the faint light that lay beyond. He couldn't sleep, not that he wanted to.

Was he in hell?

Was that why all these memories kept playing in his mind?

He sighed. Hell was where he belonged. With everything he had done, the people he had hurt, the demons he had enabled, he shouldn't have been so surprised at the thought of going to hell.

"_This is the most awesomest birthday party ever!" the girl exclaimed._

_Dean nodded his head vigorously._

"_My mom is so cool!" Dean said, looking toward the back sliding door where he knew his mom would be watching._

"_You got that right," the girl agreed._

_Dean raised a gloved hand. Gracie raised hers too. They high fived each other and got back to work. _

_The memory shifted._

"_My little football player," she cooed. _

_Dean smiled and pushed her away playfully. _

"_Little?" he said teasingly. "I'm taller than you!"_

"_Come here son," John said opening his arms wide. _

"_I'm proud of you," he said as he hugged him tight and let him go. _

It was the sound of the school bell ringing that woke Sam from his memories. He looked around himself surprised. Dawning shown from his eyes as he remembered how he had left the school building at lunch time that day and had sat here meaning to close his eyes for just a few minutes. This had been weeks ago back to a time when all he had to worry about was if Dean and Dad would be coming back soon.

He put his head in his hands. Was this all he to look forward to for the rest of eternity? Living through all his mistakes again and again?

"_I know it's not much," Dean said sheepishly. Gracie shook her head, her blonde waves falling over her shoulder. _

"_It's more than enough Dean," She said putting her hand out._

"_So I take it that's a yes?" he asked tipping his head toward her hand._

_Gracie rolled her eyes._

"_Just put it on my finger already," she said good naturedly._

_Nearly a month to the day, the happy couple were wedded in the back yard of the white two story house with the white picket fence. It was a day remembered by all as the day that a great love was cemented in the stars. _

* * *

Dean could only watch confused as the scenes played out on front of him. He was but a passenger right now; a person sitting in a movie theater watching a sick horror film. Everything he was seeing was breaking his heart. The way Sam radiated loneliness and utter helplessness penetrated his very being. He had never thought that Sam would have been so depressed during this time, but what had he expected? That Sam would just watch TV and do his homework to pass by the time, unhurt by everything that had happened when he and dad had left and after the weeks of neglect?

What really confused him though were the memories that he had seen about himself and their parents. They hadn't happened. They weren't real. Why would Sam be seeing things that hadn't happened? He could tell that the memories were a major cause of Sam's depression and possibly what had helped in pushing him over the edge. Where had they come from?

******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************How strange that one event could have the power to change so much.

Dean would never have what Sam had seen. That dream had died the day he was born, forever changing his family's life and not for the better. He was a curse to the family. How would he ever be able to make up for all the bad he had caused?

The answer was that he could only make things worse. The past few weeks were testament to that.

_Just as he had taken a few steps forward he heard the sounds of a vehicle approaching behind him. Glancing back he saw the driver swerve into the oncoming lane before regaining control. Judging by how fast the vehicle was approaching, the driver was speeding._

_Just as he processed that thought, the car was in plain view and swerving toward him. There was nothing he could do but raise his hands to his face to shield his eyes from the bright headlights before he felt the impact of a brick wall, then the sensation of flying, and lastly the darkness of oblivion._

The next thing he knew Sam was reaching out to flip on a light switch. When the light flooded the room, the sight before him completely changed. The bed was covered in red. On the wall behind the bed, blood was splattered all over. Lying on the bed was a horribly mutilated body. It was the woman who had given him a ride and a place to stay in Spokane. She had been more than kind to him, more than he had deserved.

On the other side of the bed, was the long knife he had used to kill the woman. The scene before him changed again.

He was in another room, standing in front of another bed. Another woman's blood soaked the sheets she lay on.

He shook his head as the familiar tears made their way down his face. If only he hadn't been so easy to manipulate, so weak, then maybe these women would still be alive. If only he had been the son his father wanted, if only he had been like Dean. Dean would never have let the demon get the drop on him.

* * *

Dean next found himself in a dark park. In front of him, Sam sat on the ground rocking back and forth, his knees pulled in close to chest, arms wrapped securely around them. Sam was humming slightly. Through the dim light provided by a nearby street light, Dean could see Sam's breath form little white clouds as he exhaled.

In the shadows, Dean watched as a tall man shrouded in shadows approached them. He sat frozen as the man walked up to his spot. Suddenly the man pulled out a flashlight and shined it in Sam's face. Sam raised his hand to block the light.

"_There you are," a gruff voice spoke. "You little ingrate." _

Dean knew that voice. He didn't dare hope that he was wrong. Hope seemed to be something that was so out of reach right now.

"_You probably thought that killing those women would impress me and make me take you back," the voice spat into Sam's face. "You are anything but a Winchester." _

"_I'm sorry." _

Dean looked at the man, his face scrunched up in anger. With the way they had been acting toward Sam in the weeks leading up to this and with everything that he had seen Sam go through in their absence, Dean couldn't, no matter how hard it was, fault Sam for believing the demon so easily. It still made him angry though. Sam should never have been so easy for the picking in the first place. It was his fault.

"_You should be Sam," the man said. Sam took in the face before him as if trying to memorize every detail. "Because of you, my wife, your mother, died. You took her away from us. If you had never existed then me and your brother would have had a better life." _

He couldn't let this go on. He had to be able to reach Sam some way. After all he had to convince him to come back. Surely this wasn't just a one way road, with him watching and Sam reliving everything.

"Don't believe him Sammy," Dean pleaded. Sam seemed to pause for a moment before speaking.

"_That's not true," he said forlornly. _

"_I see it in your eyes," the man said. "You know it's true." _

Dean could only sigh as he watched Sam visibly deflate; what light was left in his eyes fading away.

"You can't give up Sam."

* * *

Sam sat with his back against the wall. He was back in his room in warehouse. The small fridge and the two ominous doors were just as he had left them. How much more of this could he take before he went mad; all these memories and no rest?

_You can't give up Sam._

He had heard those words when he had been reliving the memory when he had first seen his "father" in the park. The voice had sounded like Dean. But that wasn't possible. If Dean was somehow here with him, then that meant he was dead too. He couldn't let himself think that.

Dean was alive; he had made sure of that.

But why those words and why now? There wasn't any hope for him anymore, not after everything he had done. What could he possibly hope for anyway?

* * *

_With murmur the crowd suddenly parted. From within the crowd, two people emerged carrying a struggling man. His face was concealed by the shadows of the hood of his hoody that he was wearing over his head. With a barely seen movement of the hand, one of the people holding the struggling man pulled the hood off the man's head roughly. The man looked around the room._

Dean's eyes went wide when he saw himself in the crowd. He did not remember anything like this happing. He could only think that this wasn't him. But if it wasn't him, then how had the demon managed to get a hold of a complete look alike?

"_You have to shoot this man," the old man said coldly. _

Dean watched as Sam looked at the gun in his hand and then at the man in the crowd. He couldn't tell what Sam was thinking.

"_I can't," Sam mumbled. _

"_What was that?" the old man asked harshly. _

"_Traitor!" Dean shouted. _

Dean had half a mind to tell himself to shut up, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. Sam didn't seem to be able to hear him. So why would he expect his imposter to? Sam looked up from the gun. The other Dean now was looking at Sam with hate in his eyes. Dean growled at the man. Ever since he woke up in hospital and found out that Sam was gone, he had never once hated Sam or thought of him as a traitor. Sure he had his doubts, but deep down, he knew better. He knew Sammy even better than Sam knew himself.

"_Why are you here Sam?" Dean yelled out. "Why are you with these demons?" _

Dean watched as Sam started to shake. It seemed as if Sam was buried in a multitude of thoughts and feelings that he was struggling to control. Dean walked over to Sam and put a hand on his shoulder. It only went through thin air. However, it seemed to garner a reaction as Sam turned in his direction.

"_Did you kill all those innocent people?" the other Dean pushed further. "Did you do it because of me and dad?" _

"Sam," Dean said. "Don't cry."

He hated seeing Sam so vulnerable. It always broke his heart.

"_Stop," Sam begged, "Please stop." _

"_Why did you abandon us for them," the other Dean said, hurt lacing his voice. He pointed at the old man. "Why did you run away to him?" _

"Don't listen to him!" Dean shouted.

_Suddenly a gunshot ran out. _

_All was quiet in the room, then… _

"_Why Sam?" the other Dean said brokenly. The people holding him let him drop to the ground. _

Dean was horrified as he watched Sam stare in shock at the growing blood stain on the other Dean's chest. Sam looked at the Gun that he was now holding in his hands, his finger still on the trigger. Sam let it drop to the ground. Dean could tell that Sam was horrified as well even more so. How could someone even think of putting some else through something like this? He almost wished that the demon was still alive just so he could kill it all over again.

_The people started leaving the room. _

_Sam rushed to Dean's side. _

"_Dean!" he said, shaking his brother shoulders. _

_Weakly the other Dean turned his head to Sam. _

"_Go to Hell," he spat. _

"You go to hell!" Dean yelled viciously at the imposter.

Sam seemed to pause for moment. He turned around.

"Did you hear me Sammy?" Dean asked hopefully.

Sam only shook his head as if telling himself that he was crazy and turned back to the dead Dean.

_It was too late for apologies. Dean had already faded away, he eyes staring at nothing. _

"_Oh Dean!" Sam cried mournfully into Dean's unmoving chest. _

* * *

Sam was in darkness once more. He was back in the warehouse once again.

"_Sammy?"_

Sam gasped as he heard the faint whisper in the silence that drowned him.

"Who's there?"

"_Sammy can you hear me?"_

He was too afraid to speak any further, too afraid of what the voice would tell him.

* * *

In the darkness, Dean struggled to communicate with Sam. He knew Sam was there and he knew Sam had heard him. The gasp had given him away. After Sam had called out in response, he had spoken out again, but this time there was only silence. The scene before him changed before he could try anything more.

"_Ever wonder about why I killed your mother?" the demon asked "I know you have."_

Dean's ears perked up. He had always wondered though he never voiced his questions out loud. It was just something that they all did. Talking about mom was off limits.

"_She didn't have to die that night," the demon informed him. "She knew that I would be coming, I told her not to interrupt, but what did she do? She tried to stop me. We had a deal. She broke it, so she had to die."_

_Sam shook his head viciously._

"_She wouldn't ever deal with the likes of you!" he shot back._

'That a boy!' Dean thought. Their mother was no hunter, at least as far as he knew.

_The demon only tutted._

"_Ah, but how would you know?" the demon taunted, "You never knew the woman. She was quite the hunter in her own right, feisty."_

_Sam's eyes widened as his mother's background in hunting was revealed._

Dean's mouth dropped open. His mother a hunter?

"_When I broke your father's neck, she was only too willing to deal with me," the demon revealed. "You should be thanking me that your father lived. Without me, you and your dear brother would never have been born."_

Dean shook his head. The demon was lying, he had to be. But then again, their dad had always told him that demons always based their lies on some sort of truth. It was why they were so tricky to deal with.

"_You're lying," Sam said finally._

_The demon leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms._

"_Why would I come up with such a tale?" the demon said with a self satisfied smile. "I knew that any child that that woman would have would be special."_

This was just too weird and he only felt that it would get much worse before the demon was through with his little revelation fest.

"_Why do you need me so much?" Sam countered._

_The demon lifted the corner of his mouth up in a small smile._

"_That is for me to know and you to find out…if you can" the demon said, enjoying how much his words were frustrating the boy in front of him._

'Typical demon response,' Dean thought

"_I won't do it," Sam said resolutely. "Whatever it is you need me for, I won't do it."_

Dean had to smile. Sam was still Sam, stubborn to the core.

"_You're so sure are you?" the demon started laughing. "Did you ever wonder why your dad seemed to treat you so differently from your brother?"_

Dean frowned. He knew this a sore spot for Sam. As much as he wanted to deny, he knew he couldn't. His dad did treat them differently. In the past few weeks this had never been more obvious.

"_Sorry, did I hit a sore subject there?" the demon laughed again. "You're father knew you were different__, tainted__."_

Dean shook his head. His dad had kept so much secret from them; who knew what else he was keeping from them.

"_You know I speak the truth," the demon said. "You always knew you were different from the other kids, from your brother."_

"_You want to know what I did to you that night in the nursery?" the demon said leaning forward. "You want to know why bad things always seem to happen to you and your family?"_

Dean narrowed his eyes. Was there more to the Winchester luck than just bad luck?

"_I fed you my blood that night," the demon said proudly. "My blood flows through your veins Sam, demon blood."_

A look of revulsion came over Dean's face. So many thoughts came to Dean all begging for attention and overwhelming him. This was huge!

"_I marked you as my own that night," the demon continued. "You can never escape me; I will always be able to find you and I will make you do my bidding."_

"_You are mine."_

* * *

Sam took in the fresh air with a smile. It felt strange to smile after everything that had happened the last few weeks, but he was beyond caring anymore. He would smile while he could, even if it felt all wrong.

"_Sammy?"_

Sam looked all around himself for the source of the voice. It was much louder than the last time he had heard it, almost as if whoever was speaking was standing right behind him. However, he was as alone as ever. No one was there.

"_I'm right here Sam," _the voice spoke again.

This time it came from right beside him. He waved his hands through the air there, and found it to be empty. Where was this voice coming from?

"_You have to come back," _the voice spoke.

Back where?

"_Back to me and dad," _the voice answered.

Great, now the voice seemed to be able to read minds.

"Who are you?" Sam asked forcefully, eyeing the air around him suspiciously.

"_How thick can you be?" _the voice spoke again.

Sam frowned. There was no way.

"Dean?" he asked.

There was no reply. The scene in front of him changed abruptly.

_Pulling him around a large tree that helped to hide him from the view of the other people at the park, Ruby pulled a large knife from under her jacket. It had a wooden handle and a jagged edge. She looked up at him seriously._

Sam could only stare at the knife that he would later use to kill the girl in front of him.

"_Now, you don't really need this Sam," she said. "But it's only until you figure out your powers."_

How could he have done something so vile as to drink demon blood? What had he been thinking?

_Ruby pulled up her sleeves and dragged the edge of the blade across her arm, blood seeping out of the cut left in its wake. She offered her arm to Sam._

Staring at the blood on her arm made him sick. It made him hate himself even more. When he was a baby, he had not had a choice in the mater, but this? He had drank willingly, he had condemned himself fully, and in his stupidity dammed himself to this hell he was living right now where he had to relive every mistake he had made, see every person he had hurt, and hear voices that sounded suspiciously like his brother.

His father had been right. He was weak and selfish and now he was paying for it. It served him right.

* * *

If he was any other person, he would have given up as soon as he saw Sam kill the first demon. But he wasn't just anyone. He had stuck through it, through the second death and the third and all the torture that was involved. That Ruby chick was one sick person for suggesting the things she did but Sam wasn't any better for doing as she said.

It was all very interesting though. His brother had super powers. In another time this would have been the coolest thing to happen to them. But with the way Sam had gotten those powers, it wasn't nearly as cool as it was terrifying.

Watching Sam struggle to exorcise and kill the demons, with all the headaches and nose bleeds, made Dean want to rush over and stop him from hurting himself any further, but his influence in this place was limited as he was finding out. The last time he had tried talking to Sam had been better than before, but right he was about to make a break through, his ability to communicate had vanished.

_On the sidelines, Ruby cheered Sam on._

"_Kill this one Sam," Ruby said eagerly._

_Sam smiled evilly and concentrated. The demon struggled but a quick hand motion froze the demon in place._

It was all too much like the night in the graveyard for Dean.

_The act of actually killing a demon proved to be much harder than he had anticipated. Soon he was sweating and he could feel his nose dripping blood. Maybe he just wasn't strong enough to kill a demon yet?_

Dean saw the determination in his brother's eyes as a fire seemed to light behind them.

_Suddenly the demon let out a pitiful scream. An unearthly light started to flash beneath the skin of the demon, before it raised his head toward the sky in a final scream. It slumped to the ground slowly, dead just moments later._

_Sam stumbled over toward the bed before collapsing into it. That demon had taken a lot out of him._

"Oh Sam," Dean said shaking his head.

* * *

_Suddenly, the door opened and the lights came on. Ruby came into the room. She had a smile on her face. _

"_Hi Sam," she greeted. _

She shouldn't have been so happy to see him. This was the day he had found out about her true loyalties and had first thought of killing her.

"_I'm really sorry for this Ruby," Sam said. _

_Ruby looked at him confused, her smile slightly diming. _

"_I have to know," Sam said standing up. _

_He raised his hand. Before Ruby could protest, she was thrown backwards and pinned to the wall. Ruby's eyes spoke volumes about the fear she was feeling at this unexpected turn of events. _

He saw a quaint village. People roamed freely, mingling in the streets. It was a happy picture of a different time.

The image changed as a scream rent the air. Cries of death range through the air from different houses.

Funerals took place just outside of town.

A child drifted off in death.

A woman cried.

Black eyes flashed.

Another pair of eyes opened surprised to be awake once more.

Yellow eyes flashed.

A fire burned.

A baby cried out.

A woman screamed.

Sam screamed.

"Stop!" he pleaded. He couldn't take this anymore. Memories were flashing front of him, memories from other people, from Ruby, from the yellow eyed demon, all mixing together. He had seen so much and now he was being overwhelmed by it.

"Please stop," Sam begged, praying that whoever ruled this hell would be kind enough to stop this torture at least this one time.

* * *

"_You're only sorry that you don't control me any longer!" he screamed. "Why should you feel so guilty otherwise?!" _

_He shook his head, tears forming in his eyes. _

Dean had to break through to Sam. He didn't know how much more of this he could watch. How it must feel for Sam to see this. He didn't want to Sam to suffer like this for the rest of eternity.

"_You never cared back when it mattered," he shouted. "You turned your back on me and now you're sorry?!" _

_He kicked out at the car. _

"_You have no right!" he screamed for all to hear. _

The scene fast forwarded.

_Sam was standing over Daniel. With one last look around him, Sam pulled out his gun and aimed it at the hapless hunter. Firing the gun and hitting his target, he kicked the man aside and got into the car._

As Dean watched him drive away once more, he could only hope that he would find some way to get through to Sam before he was taken from this place. His mother never said how long he had, but he had to figure that he didn't have eternity to save his brother.

Next thing he knew, he was back in the graveyard.

* * *

"_You seem to have the foolish notion that I can be saved," Sam said._

_Dean took a deep breath._

"_You can be saved Sammy," he replied.__ "Just come back with me."_

"_It's not possible," Sam said. "After everything I've done, the people I've killed, the abilities I have…"_

_Sam trailed off._

"_Knowing this, are you so sure that I would want to be saved?" Sam asked._

Watching this all play out, all he could do was stare at Dean and wish that things hadn't happened the way they did. He missed his brother more than anything, but even more so, he felt he didn't deserve him. The two feelings fought in his mind for dominance as he took in the sight of his brother.

"_Sam," Dean said. "This is your chance to right the wrongs you made. How many get a second chance like this? Would you be so stubborn to turn this away?" _

Sam looked at Dean strangely. This wasn't how it had gone down before. Dean hadn't said that. What was going on?

"_Don't give up yet Sam," Dean pleaded. _

Sam though of how he had heard Dean speak to him before. Could it be? Was Dean trying to reach him? Was what he was telling him the truth? Did he really have a second chance?

But then again, who was he to deserve a second chance. The guilt that ate away at him, crushed the newly risen hope, forcing him to see reality. This was it for him. There was no hope for him.

"_Goodbye Dean," he said finally._

* * *

Sam was really messed up as if he didn't know that already. If he couldn't reach him then who could? What could he do to make Sam see; to convince Sam that he was worthy of a second chance? He was at least reaching him now, though he wasn't sure if Sam was really aware that he was really here.

The scene changed and he found himself standing over Sam, a gun held in his hands pointed at the ground before him.

"_Maybe you'll get it right this time," Sam taunted. "I guess seeing your little brother open a gate to hell is just too much to take, huh Dean?" the demon taunted. Dean felt his finger put pressure on the trigger. The sky above them flashed with light again. In the brief moment, Dean had looked at Sam. Maybe it was just the light, but Sam had suddenly seemed so pale._

"_Shoot me Dean," Sam said._

"I'm not here to shoot you Sam," Dean said. "I'm here to take you back."

"_All this time you have been playing me haven't you?" he accused. "The woman who gave me a ride, the police officers wife, Dean? All of it, just to get me to open these doors?"_

Dean looked to the sky in annoyance. Every time he started, he was interrupted. Was Sam trying to make this more difficult than it already was?

"_All that and so much more Sam," the demon said. "I've been playing you like a fiddle, but only because you asked for it."_

_Sam couldn't believe the demon._

"_Who would ask for such a thing?" Sam asked indignantly._

_The demon laughed._

"_You asked for it by being so weak, by leaving yourself wide open to me," the demon said. "You were so hard to get to because of your family, but when they left you alone that weekend, all I had to do was send you a few dreams and you were mine."_

Dean had it. He marched up to Sam and grabbed his shoulders. Surprisingly, he was able to grasp him rather than go right through him. Shaking him Dean struggled to get some sort of response from his brother.

"Sam, don't listen to him," Dean said. "You're not weak; you're one of the strongest people I know."

"Dean?" Sam questioned finally seeing him for what he was.

_Sam was losing fast. His strength was failing him. He had used up too much of his energy on searching the demon's mind and little things like throwing people around and freezing them. That and that the opening of the tomb doors had all combined to drain him. Now he was only barely able to keep the demon frozen in place._

_Suddenly a shot rent the air. He couldn't afford to see who was hit if anyone. All he knew was that it hadn't hit him. He had to concentrate. Hopefully someone would have the presence of mind to get the gun from the demon._

_He knew he wouldn't last much longer._

* * *

"_I knew you weren't bad Sammy," Dean said slurring his words._

What was going on? Dean had just been shaking his shoulders, now he was lying in front of him, bleeding his heart out, on death's door step, _again._

"_You're hurt," Sam stated, a tear falling down his cheek at Dean's words._

_Dean only smiled._

"_Just a surface wound," he said. He could feel Dean fading away._

"You were just-" he couldn't think of what to say. He was just so confused and lost.

"_Why did you kill Dean?" he asked. "You promised."_

"_I never promised to not kill him, I only said I wouldn't hurt him, those are two different things," Ruby said._

He didn't think he would be able to get used to the way thing just up and changed so suddenly here.

"_Do you think that your mother would have been happy with you joining sides with demons, murdering people, and opening the gates of hell?" Ruby countered. Sam was slipping in his ability to paralyze her._

Her words hit their mark once again as Sam recoiled at the thought. What would his mother think of him now? He was glad he would never know. It hurt too much to think of how disappointed she must be right now where ever she was.

_With a fierce growl he plunged the knife into her stomach and watched with satisfaction as she looked at him in great pain, convulsing, as she lit up from within, before collapsing to the ground to the ground dead._

Sam stared at Ruby's dead body then looked up to the sky. All was dark, the lightened flashed, the rain fell, but he didn't feel any of it. He was numb. Living through this once was more than enough for him, but to have to live through it again? What would happen now; was this how he would really spend eternity; living this over and over again?

"_You're nobody. You have no identity."_

"_What?" George Bailey asked in disbelief. _

"_Zuzu's petals. You've been given a great gift, George. A chance to see what the world would be like without you…"_

Sam could only hope that where ever Dean was that he was ok and living his life to the fullest now that he, Sam, wasn't there to hinder him in the least.

"How can you think that?" a voice said from behind.

Sam turned. It was Dean, and he was standing there, no shot to the chest, alive and from the looks of it pretty angry.

"How can I not?" Sam countered. He would humor this apparition.

"You expect me to just carry on like there's' nothing wrong?" Dean questioned. "I lived for you Sam."

Sam frowned.

"It sure didn't seem that way before you left," Sam said.

Dean seemed to pause before replying. He walked up to Sam and put his hands on Sam shoulders.

"I know Sam, I know and I'm sorry for that," Dean said sincerely. "I was wrong."

Sam raised his eyebrows. Who was this and what did they do with Dean? Dean never said he was wrong; at least not so directly.

"Are you, am I-" Sam shook his head. "What's going on here?"

Dean took his hands off Sam's shoulder.

"You're not supposed to be here,' Sam said taking a step backward. "If you're here then that means it didn't work-"

Dean stepped forward again.

"It did work Sam," Dean said. "I woke up as if nothing happened to me and you…"

Dean couldn't speak for a moment.

"You were…gone."

Sam forced himself to look into his brother's eyes, even though he wanted nothing more than to turn away. The pain in them was too much for any one person to bear, but bear it Dean did.

"It's better this way," Sam said sadly.

If Dean had seen everything he had gone through, if he had seen his memories, then surely Dean couldn't still believe he was worth saving. If anything, Dean should be high tailing it out of where ever they were and getting back to his life. Sam had given him a gift, and he only hoped that Dean would take advantage of it.

"You're wrong Sam," Dean said. "You're absolutely wrong."

"How can you say that?" Sam said breaking down. "You saw, you saw what I did."

"And I can't blame you," Dean said. "Sure it was horrible and terrifying, but under the circumstances…I don't think I would have made it through the way you did," Dean said. "You're so much stronger than me."

Sam shook his head.

"You would have died before hurting those women," Sam said. "You would have spit in Azazel's face and let him kill you before you sold your soul."

Sam fell to his knees.

"You never would have killed me, no matter what it looked like."

It was the scene in Sam's nursery all over again. He went on his knees in front of Sam and took him in his arms.

"What happened, happened," Dean said. "You have a chance to make up for it, take it. Come back with me."

"What's the point?" Sam asked.

Dean pulled away from Sam.

"The point?" he asked. "I need you, and the world needs you."

"_I suppose it would have been better if I'd never been born at all," George said looking away from Clarence._

"_What'd you say?' Clarence asked almost fearfully._

"_I wish I never been born!" George shouted._

"Sam!" Dean said shaking him. "Snap out of it!"

Sam blinked.

"Why?" he asked. "Why me; why a second chance? There are so many people out there who are more worthy than me and deserve it so much more."

Dean shook his head sadly.

"And you think _your_ selfish," Dean said. "What you did for me, the whole giving up your life thing, it got the attention of people higher up."

Sam frowned.

"They sent me to you to help you come back," Dean explained.

Sam looked at the ground and thought for a while.

"What would I gain by going back?" he asked forlornly.

Dean seemed to hesitate and when he finally spoke his voice hitched.

"Your family, your life," he said. "The chance to save people."

Sam shook his head and looked up at Dean.

"It would only be another chance to mess up," Sam said. "I opened the gates to hell Dean, if I go back who knows what I would do."

"Sam-" Dean started.

"No Dean," Sam said standing up and pushing Dean away. "I can't do that. This," he motioned all around him. "It's better than taking the chance that I might do something worse. I deserve this."

Dean stayed where he was sitting brokenly on the ground.

"You can't expect me to leave here without you," he said. "Don't ask me to do that."

Sam took a deep breath, sorry for what he was about to do.

"I love you more than you will ever know, but I cannot go back to a world that is better off without me."

"Sam no-" Dean said.

Sam interrupted.

"It's my choice and my mind," Sam said. He didn't know if this would work, but he had to try. He didn't want Dean to be trapped here any longer. Dean needed to live his life and he needed to live it without him. Dean would understand someday. He had to. "I don't want you here anymore Dean. Go back to dad."

Dean stood up.

"No Sam," he said a sudden defiance creeping into his voice. "I'm not leaving without you."

A tear fell down his cheek. He hoped Dean didn't see. This was hard enough as it was. He shook his head.

"This is it Dean," he smiled sadly. "Goodbye Dean. Don't miss me, I'm not worth it."

"No!" Dean pleaded.

Sam shut his eyes against the pain in his brother's voice and willed him to be sent back to dad. Minutes passed in silence. When he opened his eyes, he found that he was alone once more. More tears started falling down his cheeks as he let himself fall to his knees. Soon he was a sobbing mess.

He really was alone now.

"_Not quite so, Sammy boy,"_ a voice echoed in his mind.

Sam's head snapped up and searched the area all around him, but he didn't see anyone else. The harder he looked the more panicked he became. He knew that voice. But he was dead.

Wasn't he?


	22. Chapter 22 To lose my life

**Hi everyone! Hope your having a wonderful week so far. Here's another chapter for you all. Only one more to go! (But don't worry, there will be a sequel). **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 22**

**To lose my life**

*****

_The world has turned and left me here,  
Just where I was before you appeared  
And in your place an empty space,  
Has filled the void behind my face_

_The world has turned and left me here, Weezer_

* * *

When Dean opened his eyes, it was to find himself sitting inside a truck. Momentarily confused, he looked to who was driving and saw that it was Bobby.

"Finally decide to wake up sleeping beauty?" Bobby questioned.

Dean frowned and turned away. Outside was dark. They were driving down an almost empty highway. The only other vehicle on the road was the one behind them, following them. Dean could tell it was his father's truck. He'd recognize it anywhere, even in the dark on night, driving down a highway in another truck.

"You were sleeping pretty deeply there," Bobby said.

Dean could sense that Bobby was worried about him, but hesitant to say it out loud. It was unusual to say the least. Bobby was one of the bluntest men he knew; quick and straight to the point. It was kind of him, but totally unnecessarily and completely annoying. At least if Bobby had been his usual charming self, he could shut him off quickly and be done with it. He had no interest in talking. But since Bobby was asking nicely, it was harder. He settled for pretending to fall asleep again. Turning away, he leaned his head on the window and closed his eyes.

He didn't even question how he had gotten from the motel room to inside Bobby's truck, why he wasn't riding with his father, where his car was, or where they were going. It all seemed so pointless to worry about when there were bigger things to think about.

Like why Sam hadn't come back with him.

He could feel Bobby staring at him. As the minutes passed, he could tell that Bobby had given up on trying to talk with him. Dean opened his eyes. As he looked out into the darkness, he couldn't help but think of his failure to save Sam. Maybe if he tried harder. Maybe if he had explained himself better. Maybe…

Anger settled in his mind suddenly.

How could Sam do this to him; did Sam not care what this was doing to him? Sam had in effect sacrificed himself so that Dean could live. It was eating him up inside. How could Sam think that _this_ was better? Did he think so little of himself to deny this chance at a new start? Did Sam not value the effort he had gone to try and save him? There were so many questions rolling around in his mind.

One thing was clear; he would do anything for his brother. He had worn his heart on his sleeve. It had gone against his very natural to do so, but he had done it hoping it would bring his brother back. It hurt to know that Sam wasn't the same way.

He tried to tell himself that Sam was only doing what he thought was best in his own twisted way of thinking. Sam was so messed up. In the time he had been with, he had seen that first hand. With that being said, how could he be angry with Sam? But then again, it sure beat missing him. If he missed Sam then that meant Sam was gone. If he was angry at Sam, then he could pretend, at least for a little while, that Sam was just with his dad and that they had just had a simple fight like siblings always had from time to time.

The memories of everything Sam had been through ran through his mind. It was all too much. He had been telling the truth when he had told Sam that he never would have been able to withstand it all. How had Sam managed to survive? His mind answered his question with a somber truth.

Sam hadn't survived at all.

The person he had been reasoning with was but a broken shell of the Sam he knew. His eyes had been lifeless and lacked the spark of curiosity that made Sam, Sam. The words he had spoken revealed much more than their literal meaning. Sam had given up and resigned himself to his own personal hell. He was so twisted that he believed that it was what he deserved.

Sam deserved so much more than that, but how could he convince someone who didn't have the will to live?

Dean smirked inwardly. This coming from someone whose own will to live was fading like a setting sun. What a pair he and Sam were; both messed in the head and suicidal. Only thing different was that Sam was already dead and it seemed he would stay that way.

This was just entirely too odd of a conversation to having with himself. Dean closed his eyes and willed the thoughts away from his mind, but they would not leave him alone.

* * *

Sam still sat where he had fallen to the ground after Dean had left. He didn't know how long he had been sitting there. He didn't think time mattered much here. With a sigh he wondered what was next in store for him. It couldn't be good whatever it was, so he was enjoying the relative peace that he was currently experiencing.

The rain had stopped falling along with the thunder and lightning. He hadn't really noticed though, his thoughts on Dean and all his other sorrows that were too many to count. He was at peace though. Strange as it was, he was happy to be here. It was all he deserved after all. As long as Dean was ok that was all that he needed. He wished there was a way to know how Dean was doing though, just to know that he had moved on and was living a happy life.

Suddenly a voice started echoing around the graveyard. Sam took in a sharp breath and looked all around himself to see if this was the start of his next torture to endure. To his surprise, there was nothing out of the ordinary save for the voice. He listened.

The voice sounded as if it had come from a great distance. He could only make out a few words here and there and from the sound of the voice, whoever was speaking was in great pain, whether physical or emotional wasn't clear. Sam listened harder, all his guilt and misery momentarily forgotten.

_I don't…Sam doesn't care_…_you don't!_

Dean? It sounded like Dean. But how could that be?

_Go off and kill yourself…he left me…why?_

Sam frowned as he searched all around himself, looking through the trees and down the steps for the source of the voices. Who was telling who to kill themselves?

"_Why Bobby?" Dean's heartbroken voice echoed. "Why didn't he come back with me?"_

Sam stopped dead in his tracks. When he put together everything that he had heard, it made out one very hurt and distraught Dean. It seemed that Dean, where ever he was, wasn't dealing well and wasn't moving on like he hoped he would. Even in death, Sam managed to mess up once again.

At least he knew how Dean was doing now. He wasn't sure if he should be thanking whoever had listened to his wish or not anymore with what he had found out. What could he do now? He had sent Dean away and now Dean was suffering.

Just as always, it was his fault.

* * *

It was still dark when they finally arrived at their destination. In the hours since he woken in Bobby's truck, he had not been able to go back to sleep, thoughts of Sam plaguing his mind until he wanted to scream out to the sky about the injustice of it all. He hadn't though. He was pretty sure that that would have freaked out Bobby more than he already seemed to be.

Bobby hadn't spoken to him one word beyond what he initially had said. He only kept sending Dean worried glances. With everything on his mind, he ignored Bobby. It was rude of him, but he wasn't feeling particularly generous toward anyone right now.

Now as he stared out the window at Bobby's house, he thought of what was in store for him now. Did his dad just think that after a few days at Bobby's that he would be all better and ready to hunt again? Did he really think it would be that simple?

"Dean," Bobby said. He had already stepped out of his truck, the door still open, and was peering back inside at Dean. "You have to get out sometime."

Dean could only glare at him.

"Fine."

Opening the door, Dean stumbled out of the truck, holding onto the door to steady himself. Just how long had he slept? His legs felt like they could barely keep him up. Luckily, no one else had noticed. Bobby had made a beeline over to his dad and hadn't waited for him to get out of the truck. Thinking of his dad, he suppressed a growl. He needed someone to blame for everything and his dad was as good as any target. He had played the largest role in pushing Sammy to the point of no return, to the point where not even he could save him.

Making sure his legs would support him, Dean slowly made his way over to where he could see Bobby and his father's shadows talking in the moonlight. Whatever they were talking about must have been pretty deep, they didn't even notice him sneaking up on them.

"What are you thinking John?" Bobby asked. His voice was getting louder the more he spoke. "You can't just leave him here like that."

Dean frowned. Dad was leaving_, again?_

"You don't understand Bobby, I _have_ to go," his dad said. "I can't take Dean with me, _I don't want to_."

Dean's frown turned into an all out snarl.

"What do you mean you don't want to take me?!" he yelled, startling the two men in the darkness. "You got rid of Sammy now you're gonna get rid of me too? Just what kind of father are you?!"

"I didn't mean it-"

"Oh yes you did," Dean interrupted. Once he got started nothing would stop him, especially now. "You didn't even think of the possibility that I wouldn't even want to go with you did you? You just assumed that I would."

"Dean-"

"Don't 'Dean' me," Dean said pointing a finger. "You could go off and kill yourself for all I care after how badly you messed up with Sammy!"

It was harsh and a part of Dean wished he hadn't said it, but that part wasn't in control right now. Dean had so much anger built up at himself, at his dad, at Sammy, and at the world, that it was only a matter of time before he exploded.

His dad's only response was to get back into his truck and shut the door. The loud roar of the engines only fueled Dean's anger more.

"You leave you coward!" Dean screamed running after the truck and waving his fists in the air.

Bobby seemed to finally regain his senses as he rushed after Dean and grabbed him from behind.

"What are you thinking boy?!" he shouted angrily. "Going off on your father like that?!"

Dean was still spitting mad.

"I don't care, I don't give a damn about him," he shouted.

Bobby turned Dean around forcefully.

"I know this is a hard time for you both-"

"No you don't!" Dean screamed. He was acting like a toddler, but he couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Listen to me ya idjit!" Bobby yelled. "Your dad is dealing with this the only way he knows how."

"By being a coward?!" Dean spat.

"You have to calm down Dean," Bobby said, holding Dean firmly.

"What if I don't want to?" Dean said, finally not yelling for once.

"Sam wouldn't want to see you like this would he?" Bobby asked.

"Well Sam doesn't care now does he?!" Dean said regaining his shouting tone. He wrenched himself out of Bobby's grasp. "He left me here to rot without him. What good is living when he's off in some lost soul hell for eternity?!"

Bobby didn't speak.

"He told me he loved me!" Dean yelled. "If he loved me, then why didn't he come back?!"

Abruptly, Dean started sobbing.

"Why Bobby?" Dean asked heartbroken. "Why didn't he come back with me?"

Bobby, not having a clue what he was talking about, stepped forward and enveloped him in a hug. Bobby didn't speak, just comforted him as best he could. He understood though he didn't know. Dean was grateful for that. It was more than he could have ever hoped for from his father.

It was a sad thought.

* * *

_You could go off and kill yourself for all I care…_

Dean was closer to the mark with his words than he would ever know. He supposed it was better this way. At least he didn't have any doubts about where his son stood with him. He wouldn't have any regrets about what he was about to do. He only felt sorry for Bobby who had gotten caught up in the middle of all this.

He watched the road ahead of him. He had many miles to go before he could do what he so wanted to do. There one thing he had to resolve before he could leave this world with a clean conscience.

He drove on into the night, hopefully to never be seen again.

* * *

Bobby stood, his arms crossed across his chest, leaning against his front door. He was watching Dean sleep on the couch. It had been hell getting him there, but about an hour ago he had managed the feat. Dean had not gone down easily. It was the most emotional he had seen the boy act. Dean was not one for, what he called, "chick flick" moments. This had been one extremely long said moment.

He couldn't blame the kid though, not with everything he had to deal with. He _did_ have to give it to John. That man could manage to mess up in even the most fool proof of situations. It was just unfortunate that he had said what he had said and then had Dean overhear him without having the chance to explain himself. He was sure John had a good reason for whatever he was doing, he always did. But boy did that man not know how to put the right words together to get what he really meant across.

Ever since he had returned from burning Sam's body, John had been acting as if hell hounds were after them what with his frantic efforts to leave Spokane as soon as he had returned to the motel. Now John had left them.

As it was he was worried.

Not that he hadn't been before, but with the way John had been talking and the way he had just driven off without explanation, it was enough to make him want to chase after the man himself. But with Dean being such an emotional wreck and possibly suicidal, he had consider where he was really needed. John was a grown man and could handle whatever he came across.

It wasn't other people or things that could get in John's way that had him really worried though. It was John himself he was worried about. Surely the man wouldn't be so stupid as to off himself, what with Dean still alive and kicking. It would kill the kid to lose both family members so close together no matter what he currently thought of them.

He could only hope that John would be back soon, and that thoughts of suicide were far from the man's mind.

With that thought in mind, Bobby pushed himself off of the wall and left the room in need of a bathroom break. Dean was sound asleep. It would only be a few minutes. All was quiet.

It was enough to lull him into a false sense of security.

* * *

As soon as he heard the bathroom door shut, Dean jumped to action. He threw the soft blanket that Bobby had placed on top of him to the floor and reached beneath the pillow that he had laid his head on. Bobby always kept a gun there just in case, though he was pretty sure that Bobby had forgotten he knew about it. Taking it securely in his hand, he stood up and quickly made his way to the door. As quietly as he could, he opened the door and squeezed by, shutting it just as quietly behind himself.

He made his way as fast as he could deeper into Bobby's salvage yard. If this didn't work, then he didn't want to be found so easily. He almost thought that Bobby would never leave him alone, when finally he had left. During the hour that he had been bidding his time, Dean had thought of many things but most of all he thought of how he could reach Sam one last time.

If this didn't work, then at least he wouldn't have to worry about facing the world without Sam at his side.

Now well beyond the view of the house, Dean stopped. He was standing behind a particularly beat up semi tractor. He took a deep breath. This wasn't going to be easy. Hell, it was downright stupid, but he was desperate and desperate times called for desperate measures.

* * *

"_Sam," _The voice echoed._ "If you can hear me, or whatever, I'm giving you this final chance to come back."_

Sam snapped at attention upon hearing the voice once more. He had been leaning against a gravestone contemplating death as cliché at that sounded. It was a rather fascinating subject to think about and one that was deep enough that he could burry himself in it and forget his troubles.

Almost.

Now the voice was back. Dean was back. He sounded desperate. It only made him want to rip his ears out. Of all the things that could torture him, hearing a sad, lonely, and above all desperate Dean was on the top of the list. He had made his choice. Dean was the only one who could bring him back and he had sent him away. Now it seemed that he have to see Dean suffer for his decision. There was nothing he could do to help Dean.

"_If you really care about me, you'll come back right now before I blow my head off."_

Sam gasped. Dean wouldn't…would he? A sudden anger flared up within him. After everything he had done for Dean in giving up his life for him, Dean would go back on it all and kill himself? Didn't Dean appreciate what he had done for him?Didn't he understand?

"_I really mean it Sam," Dean said seriously. "I'm gonna blow my brains all over this place if you don't stop me."_

How could Dean even think of doing this?

"_Please Sam," Dean said, his voice faltering. "Don't make me do this."_

Sam bit his lip. He couldn't stand hearing Dean so sad no matter how much he hated what Dean was thinking of doing. He wished he could see him, see where he was, and see that there was somebody there to stop him. Surely Dean wasn't alone?

Just as before, his wish was granted. All around him, the graveyard faded into what looked like Bobby's salvage yard. Sam held his breath as he saw Dean standing all alone, looking like there was nothing left to live for.

"_Am I that horrible to be around?" Dean said brokenly. "First you and now dad?"_

Dad? What had he done to Dean? Dad loved Dean much more than he ever loved him. What would cause Dad to hurt Dean? Dean seemed to look around himself as if expecting someone to show up at any minute. When they didn't, Dean seemed to deflate, his shoulders slumping forward even more.

"_Look Sam," Dean said. "I don't have much time before Bobby comes looking for me. You leave me no choice. I will not continue on as if nothing happened like you want me to. I can't live without you Sam."_

"_It's too hard."_

Sam frowned. The pain in his brother's voice was overwhelming. How could he stop his brother's pain?

The sound of a car driving by echoed in the air.

"_I can't do this Sam," Dean said looking at the ground. "I can't live this life alone."_

No! Sam watched in horror as Dean raised the gun in his hand to his head and closed his eyes, silent tears falling down his face.

"Don't do it Dean!" Sam shouted, but Dean didn't hear him.

"_I can't take it anymore Sam," he whispered. "It's too much to bare."_

"Please don't do it Dean," Sam pleaded.

_Dean seemed to pause. _

"_Sam?"_

"Dean?" Sam said hopefully. But seconds passed without any response. Dean only shook his head and continued on, placing his finger on the trigger.

"_I'm not strong like you are." Dean said finally. "At least this way, if you won't come to me, I'll come to you."_

Sam's breath hitched in his throat. This wasn't happening. Dean couldn't be with him. Dean didn't deserve this torture. Dean was everything good about the world his lived in and Sam would make sure he stayed there.

* * *

When Bobby left the bathroom, he decided to make himself a cup of coffee. If he was going to keep watch over his young charge he would need something to stave of the sleep his body was craving right now. While he waited, he thought of what was ahead for him and Dean. With John out who knows where and coming back who knows when, it seemed that Dean would be here for a while.

He poured himself a cup of steaming coffee.

Walking toward the front room, he mused that working in the yard would do Dean some good. It would serve as a welcome distraction and give him something to do. He had barely stepped into the room, when he noticed that the couch was empty.

"Crap," he muttered, setting his coffee on the table next to the couch. He rushed to the bathroom and found it empty. None of his other rooms were disturbed. That only left the front door. Rushing to the front of the house, he threw open the door and rushed outside.

Taking the steps two at a time, Bobby couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. His truck was still parked where he left it. There were no other working vehicles in the yard and he couldn't see anyone walking down the road. Where had Dean gotten off to?

The sudden sound of a gunshot broke the morning silence.

"Damn," Bobby said rushing forward. His worst fear had seemingly come true.


	23. Chapter 23 Somewhere over the rainbow

**Greetings everyone! It's the final chapter. Sorry it's taken so long to get to you all. I just wanted to make sure it was really good. Plus it's really long (my longest yet and I know you're probably tired of hearing that, but it sure makes me happy to know I can write chapters this long :~P). It also took forever to edit. I hope you like it and I hope it answers your questions and keeps you hooked for the sequel :D**

**Just to try and avert any confusion that might be had while reading this chapter, remember the episode "**_**In the beginning**_**" (Season 4 episode 3) where Dean was sent back in time? This chapter works like that with the whole time loop thing. Just as in the episode, where Dean had to go back in time for certain things to happen, so too does Sam. I hope this explanation doesn't confuse you and put you off from going nay further. If you're still confused after reading the chapter, just PM me and I'll do my best to help you understand. **

**And finally, with that out of the way, on with the story. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 23**

**Somewhere over the rainbow**

*****

_Lookin at the hand of the time we've been given here  
This is all we got and we gotta start pickin it  
Every second counts on a clock that's tickin'  
Gotta live like we're dying  
We only got 86 400 seconds in a day to  
Turn it all around or throw it all away…_

_Live like we're dying, Kris Allen_

* * *

As soon as he had heard the gun shot, Sam scrunched his eyes closed and put his hands to his ears. Screaming bloody murder, Sam shook his head in denial. How could Dean do this? Why didn't Dean understand his decision? Why was he being so selfish? A life was not something to give up so easily. Sam knew this first hand. Why had Dean thrown away Sam's gift so carelessly?

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't realize that he eyes were still shut. Opening them, he found that he was no longer in Bobby's salvage yard. Instead, he was back in the room where this whole life and death nightmare had begun. He was sitting on his knees on the floor of what he could only think had been his room all those years ago in Kansas.

It was happening. He was back at the beginning again. Soon he would be back in that small town walking home alone from school. Sam sighed deeply. He could only hope that the impact of what he saw would only wear off the more he saw it. Maybe there would even come a time where what he saw wouldn't even affect him. He could only hope.

"Oh Sammy," a soft voice said.

Sam's head snapped up only to behold the most beautiful and pure looking woman he had ever laid eyes on. It the woman from his dreams, the one he had only seen in pictures.

"Mom?" he asked hesitantly.

She nodded and walked into the room. She knelt in front of Sam and took him in her arms. It was a wonderful feeling to receive the comfort she offered. He hardly knew her, but sitting there in her warm embrace felt so right.

"I've missed you so much honey," his mother soothed.

"I've missed you too," Sam sniffled before pulling out of her embrace. "Is this real?"

He had to know if this was just another figment of his imagination.

Mary tilted her head and shook it.

"This is all created by your mind," she explained.

"You?" Sam asked, the tiny hope that had risen fading the more she revealed.

She shook her head again.

"I'm just a guest here," she said.

Sam sighed and looked around.

"I've messed up so badly mom," he said. "And Dean…" He stopped speaking.

"Look at me Sam," he mother ordered softly. Sam frowned and did as she asked. "It's not too late."

Sam's frown grew deeper.

"But he already-"

She put a silencing finger on his lips.

"Dean was but the messenger," she explained. "He doesn't hold the keys to unlock this door you've placed between him and you. You do."

"So Dean still can be…"

Mary nodded.

Sam looked at the floor. Mary reached out and cupped his face in her hands, bringing up his gaze until he was looking directly into her eyes.

"I know what you're thinking, what you fear," she said, understanding shining in her eyes. "I won't say that it will be easy or that everything will be okay if you go, but I will say that if you go, Dean will live and you will live and you will have the chance to make things right mo matter how long it takes and that is so much more than you can do here."

Sam sniffled and nodded slowly, her reasoning resonating within his mind, telling him what he already had figured out.

"Can I just stay here for a few more minutes?" he said, his voice hitching. "With you?"

Mary tilted her head and nodded sadly.

"Of course," she said softly, taking him into her warm embrace for one last time, "What ever you need."

As he sat in her arms, tears fell down his cheeks, tears for himself, tears for Dean, and most all, tears for his mother who had been taken from them much too soon.

* * *

John stood somberly in a forest, the light of a brightly burning fire lighting his tired face. The smell of burning flesh hung in the air, but he didn't seem to notice. His mind was in another place.

After a short drive away from the graveyard, further away from Spokane and deeper into the surrounding forests, he had stopped. It had taken a good while to gather wood and carry the bodies in, but here he was now, watching them burn. There wasn't any satisfaction in his eyes as he watched the two demons burn. Maybe if things hadn't turned out the way they did, he would be watching them burn with a sense of justice having been dealt.

But things hadn't turned out the way they needed to for that to happen and now here he was, his small family minus one, and most likely fractured beyond repair. These two demons had done that to him. Yet, like he had thought before, there was no satisfaction at their deaths. Instead there was burning hole within him, a hole that Sam, now dead, had once filled. Thinking of Sam only made him think of what he had to do next.

Tearing himself away from the blaze, he dragged himself back his truck for the last body.

As he walked through the trees, he couldn't help but think of Sam and the things Sam had done while under the yellow eyed demon's control. Of course, he still loved his son, but the things he had done…

The moon above was suddenly revealed as the cloud covering it drifted on. It cast an eerie glow on the surrounding area making his journey seem so much more ominous than it already was.

If he was being honest with himself, he would have to admit that he was glad Sammy was dead. It would have been too hard to deal with the aftermath of everything with Sam still alive. It would have been too hard to look Sam in the eye after everything he had done to the boy. He knew he had played a major role in pushing Sam toward the demon. This was better, he had convinced himself. Dean would call him a coward, but Dean would never know his reasons.

The snow crunched beneath his feet as he walked on toward where his truck was parked somewhere in the darkness ahead. Thinking of his truck and who lay within brought Sam's angelic face to his mind's eye.

This was his boy, his little Sammy, and now he was dead, all because he had been left alone at a time when he never should have been abandoned. Some father he was. He thought back to the graveyard. He had tried to shoot Sam. He had meant to kill him. If he had succeeded, then Sam never would have been able to incapacitate the demon and he would never have had the opening to shoot the demon. Even after Sam had proven himself, he still had pointed his gun at Sam.

Oh what Sam must have thought about him then, if he didn't already think it. Sam was the most forgiving person he knew, but he had done too much this time to be forgiven by Sam or to even want forgiveness. He wasn't even sure if he could have forgiven Sam for what he had done if he had lived. It definitely was better this way.

Up ahead, he could make out the outline of his truck. Sighing deeply, John closed the distance between him and his truck within minutes. He had laid Sam in the passenger seat, meaning to experience one last ride with his boy at his side.

He shook his head. He had to stop being so sentimental. He had a job to do and it was time he did it.

* * *

When Sam opened his eyes next it was to find himself surrounded by darkness. With the aid of the dim moonlight, he realized that he was sitting inside of a vehicle. With a quick glance around, he realized that not only was he in a vehicle, but it was his fathers truck. Thoughts of the last time he had seen his dad filled his mind. The glint of the gun as his dad had pointed at him with intent to kill sent shivers down his spine. He had to get out of here.

Throwing the door open, Sam burst out of the truck and ran into the forest, hiding behind a particularly large tree, just out of view from the truck. As he stopped and caught his breath, he peered around the tree and across the road to the other side. There was a faint glow in the distance. Thinking quickly of what had probably happened after he had left this world, for lack of a better term, he figured that someone, most likely his dad judging from the truck, had to burn the bodies of the two demons.

The crunch of snow and a twig braking, alerted Sam to a figure approaching in the darkness. Sam barely dared to breathe as he watched the person come closer through the forest on the other side of the road. Said person walked around the truck and opened the passenger side. He stood there for a moment before getting in, reaching around, and then getting out and looking down the road frantically as If he was looking for something that should have been right there in that seat.

It was his father and his father was looking for him. Sam knew this because of the way in which his father had reacted and the way in which he moved; that and the truck were big clues that this was his father. Sam watched as his father looked around one last time, his eyes searching the tree line around him, before dashing to the other side of the truck and getting in. The engine was on in seconds and within a minute he was out of sight. Sam sighed in relief and then frowned. Had his dad meant to burn him too? He had gone directly to the passenger side instead of the driver's side; all clues pointed to it. Sam could hit himself on the head. Of course his father would do that. He was all but dead and it was common practice to burn bodies as he had previously been thinking earlier. It was a close call. What if he had come back after his dad had retrieved him; Or worse, after his father set him on fire?

He shook his head. It probably was no mere coincidence.

Alone in the darkness and relatively safe from any current danger, the reality of his situation finally came back to him. He was back. On Earth. A place where he had royally messed up. A place where he had not been happy in the best of times, at least from what his fractured mind would let him remember. He shook his head. He couldn't think of that, he had a mission.

He had to save Dean. But how?

He thought of Dean and where Dean had been when he had put the gun to his head. He had been in Bobby's salvage yard. Judging by the trees and the burning demons somewhere within the drakness on the other side of the road, he still had to be in Washington. Whenever they had had to burn a body, they never waited long to do it, let alone crossed state borders.

Knowing his dad, he would have gone and done it right after the demons had "died." That meant that he was near the graveyard and that what had happened there had happened not too long ago. That meant that Dean was still here too. Maybe he could reach Dean before they left for Bobby's place. Maybe he could stop the whole thing before Dean even thought of it.

But then again, he was alone. Alone in a rather large forest and vehicle-less. From the way his dad was driving, he would no doubt be halfway back to the motel they were staying at, that is if they had stayed there after his little visit. Weaving his way through the trees, Sam walked back to the road and then stopped.

Remembering the direction that his dad had gone in, Sam took off running. There was nothing else he could think of to get him there other than walking and that was just too slow for him. He thought nothing of the tiredness he felt. His only goal was to reach his brother and stop that fatal bullet.

* * *

John burst into the motel room without hesitation. He didn't even stop to register how his actions would be received by Bobby who was already on edge as it was. Not even half way through the door, John found himself being pushed to the ground and a knife being held to his throat. He should have known that was how Bobby would react, but he didn't care. He had one thing on his mind and that was getting his remaining son out of this god forsaken city. Sam's body was gone meaning either he wasn't as dead as they thought or other demons had gotten a hold of him. Neither of these options bode very well for them. Pushing Bobby off with a grunt, John stood up and looked to Dean. He was sleeping.

"Damn it John, you idjit," Bobby said, picking himself up of the ground.

John ignored him for the moment and went to Dean. He shook him to wake him. They had to leave right away. Who knew what was going on with Sam if anything at all, but it was better to be safe than sorry. All thoughts of Sam being anything but bad had left his mind the moment he had found Sam missing from his truck.

"Dean, son," John said, still shaking him. Dean wasn't responding. "We gotta get out of here."

"What are you doing?" Bobby said walking over to him. "Why now?"

John turned to Bobby frustratedly.

"I don't have time to explain," He turned back to Dean, who still had not stirred from his slumber. "How long has he been out?"

"Only about an hour," Bobby said quickly, his tone clipped. He was obviously angry at John for the way he was acting.

"We don't have time," John said. He bent over and took Dean in his arms. Putting him over his shoulder he turned to Bobby. "Open the door."

Bobby just stood there.

"Bobby," John said. "Just do it."

"Where do you get off ordering me around?" Bobby said obstinately. "What's got you all fired up?"

John only shook his head and went to the door.

"Did something go wrong-"

His only answer was the door being thrown open forcefully. John walked out into the darkness and went toward where Bobby's truck was parked. Just as he hoped, Bobby came out of the motel room hot on his heels.

"What are you doing?!" Bobby asked forcefully.

"We're leaving," John said. "It's not safe here anymore."

"What do you mean?" Bobby asked angrily. "You burned-"

"Just open the door Bobby," John said tiredly.

Bobby huffed.

"Why isn't he going with you?" he asked.

John shook his head.

"He's better off with you, especially once he wakes up," he said. There was no emotion in his voice as he spoke the words. "I'm not exactly on his good side right now."

Bobby nodded reluctantly.

"Where do you have in mind for our destination?" Bobby asked.

John was glad that Bobby was finally coming around.

"Your place," John answered.

Bobby sighed and for a moment John wasn't sure if Bobby liked the idea.

"Fine," he said reaching into his pocket for his keys, "But when we get there, you owe me a full explanation for all of this."

John shrugged non-committedly as he watched Bobby put the key into the lock and open the door. As he got Dean settled in, Bobby asked him another question, one that was far from his mind.

"What are you going to do about the car?" Bobby asked. "Dean will kill you if he wakes up and his car's not there."

Fastening Dean's seatbelt, he turned back to Bobby.

"I'll work something out," he answered. Truthfully, he didn't have a clue what he was going to do about that, but in the whole scheme of things, a car, no matter how cherished, was low on his priorities. "Stay here," he told Bobby. He didn't want to leave Dean alone, especially with what had happened to Sam when he had been left alone. Bobby nodded his acceptance.

Walking back into the motel room, he quickly gathered his and Dean's things and then went back out. Putting the things in his truck, he relieved Bobby from his watch to allow him to get his things together and do one final sweep of the room.

Just minutes later, Bobby was back. John was very appreciative toward Bobby for his speed.

"I checked us out too," Bobby said, putting his stuff in the back of the truck. "If we drive straight, we should be at my place early tomorrow morning.'

John nodded and went to his truck. Starting it up he pulled out and waited for Bobby to take the lead. He would be following, though he had been there so many times before. It was Bobby's place after all and Bobby knew the way better than he ever would.

It was somber two car procession that never broke formation through the many hours they drove toward South Dakota, only stopping to refuel.

* * *

Sam stopped out of breath in front of the motel sign. The _Spokane Street Motel _sign glowed in the night and flashed in and out several times as he caught his breath. It felt like hours since he had found himself in his father's truck. The sun had barely started to rise, but he was anything but ready for a new day. If anything, he wanted to drop right where he stood and not wake up until the next millennium.

He had ran until he reached a more populated stretch of road where some kind stranger who was just stepping out of his house on his way to work, offered him a ride into the city. From there he managed to get himself thoroughly turned around and more than lost before thinking to look at the yellow pages for any motel with a name that rung a bell within his memories. After asking a few passing people for directions to the motel he had seemed most drawn to, he finally managed to get himself going in the right direction. Now here he was, early morning, at a small motel that he could only hope still housed his family.

As he walked past the sign and down the sidewalk that lined the rooms, he looked out into the small parking lot. His heart was falling fast as he failed to see any vehicles he was familiar with. Just as he was ready to give up on finding any outside evidence of his family's presence, he saw it; Dean's precious car. It was parked behind a tall monster of an SUV, the reason why he couldn't see it at first. There was still hope.

Searching through memories he would rather forget, Sam struggled to remember what Room Dean had come running out of the last and only time he had been at this place. Having a vague sense of which room it was, Sam looked around the parking lot for something he could use to pick the lock. Finding a small bobby pin laying on the ground, Sam rushed back to the door he had decided was the right one and started working his magic on the old lock. It was a trick that Dean had taught him years ago.

Seconds later the lock clicked. He opened the door and cautiously walked in, ready for whatever awaited him inside. However, he was not prepared to find an absolutely empty room. He was sure that this was the room. Searching the room, he found nothing that indicated that anyone had been here recently. Just how long ago had they left? Maybe they had left the motel right after he had showed up and shot that other hunter. He cringed at the memory. They must have, but then why was the Implala still out front?

He left the room went to the Impala. It was Dean's alright. The license plate was a match and inside he could see Dean's tapes. Why was it still here? Had they abandoned it? He thought hard.

He couldn't go to the office and ask if and/or when they had checked out. He didn't know what name they had used to sign in and asking for the names of who had been in this room would sound suspicious. A crazy idea popped into his head. It was worth trying. He had nothing else to do and time was ticking. If they had already left, they had a few hours head start already, no matter where they had left from.

Leaving briefly, Sam returned with a hanger from a nearby dumpster and began to break into the Impala. It took a fine bit of haggling and maneuvering, but eventually he was able to open the door and get inside. Once inside, he got to work at hotwiring the car. This particular talent had been taught to him by his father, who had wanted him to have another route of escape should the situation call for it. It was ironic that he was using knowledge given to him by his father to effectively steal his brothers car, but now was not the time admire that irony. Some minutes later, the car engine finally roared to life.

Sam was in business.

****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************** A day and a night later, they finally arrived at their destination. The lonely hours had been willed away silently. He had turned off the radio and in the silence had only thought of the many possibilities surrounding the disappearance of Sam's body. He had been so sure that Sam was dead. Obviously, he had either been wrong, or a demon had taken over. Why was Sam such a target? Why were demons so easily attracted to his son, even in death?

He had to find Sam. He had to find him and make sure that no one could use him again. Sam had been used, he knew that. But he still was confused about everything that had happened and what was real and what was fake. He still didn't understand what Sam had done of his own free will and what he had been tricked or forced into doing. It the inability to distinguish between these things that kept him confused about where Sam stood and where he stood with Sam.

Coming to a stop behind Bobby's truck, John turned off his truck and got out. He saw that Bobby had already gotten out of his truck and was leaning halfway inside his truck. _Probably talking to Dean_, he thought.

He had barely finished that thought before Bobby started walking toward him.

"What now?" Bobby asked. "Dean woke up, but he's not speaking a word."

"I figured as much," John said. "Listen Bobby, I have to go."

Bobby's mouth dropped open.

"Now?" he said stunned, "Why now?"

"It's Sam-"

"What about Dean?" Bobby interrupted. "You're not thinking of leaving him here are you?"

Bobby had the look of someone hoping that he was hearing something the wrong way. When John didn't say anything, Bobby took that as his answer.

"What are you thinking John?" Bobby asked. His voice was getting louder the more he spoke. "You can't just leave him here like that."

John sighed.

"You don't understand Bobby, I _have_ to go," his dad said. "I can't take Dean with me, _I don't want to_."

"What do you mean you don't want to take me?!" Dean yelled, startling him. He had not noticed Dean getting out of Bobby's truck. "You got rid of Sammy now you're gonna get rid of me too? Just what kind of father are you?!"

The words seared themselves into his brain. _Just what type of father was he?_

"I didn't mean it-"

"Oh yes you did," Dean interrupted. Once Dean got started on something he felt passionate about nothing would stop him. "You didn't even think of the possibility that I wouldn't even want to go with you did you? You just assumed that I would."

He_ had_ thought about that in fact. It was one of the reasons why he was leaving Dean here. A small reason in comparison to the other ones, but a reason none the less.

"Dean-"

"Don't _Dean_ me," Dean said pointing a finger. "You could go off and kill yourself for all I care after how badly you messed up with Sammy!"

He frowned, a deep feeling of hopelessness settling over him. His own son didn't care if he lived or not. It was the worst form of insult that a child could give to a parent let alone another human being. He didn't want to anger Dean any further than he already had. If Dean didn't want him around and didn't care about him at all, then he would leave no matter how much it hurt him to do so under such circumstances. It was obvious Dean wouldn't get any better with him around, even if he could afford to stay a while. He would give Dean this last wish and hope that Dean would be able to move on with his life and find the sense of normalcy that he craved.

He turned away quickly, not wanting to see the anger on Dean's face that was directed at him any longer. Getting back into his truck, he shut the door, effectively cutting himself off from his son and ending any hope he had of reconciling. As he drove away, he couldn't help himself from looking in the rear view mirror to get one last glance at his son. What he saw made him sigh sadly. Dean was running after him, his fists raised high in the air.

"I'll always love you Dean" he whispered. "And I'll make sure that Sammy is at peace before I leave this world."

_I promise you that._

* * *

Sam was on a caffeine high. He had drank so much that he was shaking, on edge, his eyes darting about him, seemingly looking everywhere but at the road. He had driven straight through the day, only stopping to fill up the gas tank and get more caffeine. He could not remember the last time he had slept and he didn't dare give in now. He supposed he was probably overdoing it with the caffeine, but his mind was far beyond coherent thinking. He only had one goal in mind and that was getting to Dean in time. It was all that kept him going; it was the only rational thing on his mind.

Relying on the map book that Dean always kept in the back, Bobby's address which he had found in the glove compartment, and one of Dean's scammed credit cards, Sam had made his way across 5 different states in his effort to reach Dean. Now the sun was barely just starting to rise, along with his fears. Dean was in trouble; he could feel it. He wasn't gonna make it.

Pushing the petal hard, Sam felt the engines rev and saw the speedometer rise.

He was close. Just a little bit farther…

* * *

The chilly air hit him full on as soon as he left the warmth of Bobby's house. Bobby had gone for what he presumed was a bathroom break. It had been the opportunity he had been waiting for. Quickly, he made his way deeper into Bobby's salvage yard, If this didn't work, then he didn't want to be found so easily. He almost thought that Bobby would never leave him alone, when finally Bobby had left for the bathroom. During the hour that Dean had been bidding his time, he had thought of many things but most of all he thought of how he could reach Sam one last time.

If this didn't work, then at least he wouldn't have to worry about facing the world without Sam at his side.

Now well beyond the view of the house, Dean stopped. He was standing behind a particularly large beat up semi tractor. He took a deep breath. This wasn't going to be easy. Hell, it was downright stupid, but he was desperate and desperate times called for desperate measures.

"Sam," Dean said, looking for all the world that he was talking to himself like some crazy person in a mental institution. "If you can hear me, or whatever, I'm giving you this final chance to come back."

Silently, he berated himself when there was no reply. If Sam was really out there watching then it seemed that it would take much more than a simple plea to get him to show up.

"If you really care about me, you'll come back right now before I blow my head off."

It was a huge leap to make, but he had to trust that Sam would come back if he presented this option to him. Sam hadn't been able to let him die before and he hoped that that hadn't changed since then.

"I really mean it Sam," Dean said seriously. "I'm gonna blow my brains all over this place if you don't stop me."

Vaguely he could feel anger start to permeate the air around him.

"Please Sam," Dean said, his voice faltering. "Don't make me do this."

The sound of continued silence was ominous and oppressing to Dean. This wasn't working and he was so tired. This wasn't a physical tiredness as much as it was emotional. The longer the silence and lack of Sam's miraculous appearance lasted, the closer Dean was to death. This was because, as Bobby had stood guard over him, he had promised himself that if he couldn't save Sam, the he would end it all and give up no matter where he ended up. Heaven, hell, the middle of nowhere; elsewhere seemed better than being alone here.

"Look Sam," Dean said. "I don't have much time before Bobby comes looking for me. You leave me no choice. I will not continue on as if nothing happened like you want me to. I can't live without you Sam."

"It's too hard."

He heard the sound of a car passing by, but didn't think anything of it.

* * *

He was here.

Parking so that he couldn't be seen from the front door of Bobby's house, he quickly shut off the Impala and got out. He didn't need to be found out by Bobby's and held up before he could get to Dean. Weaving his way through the yard as quietly as he could, he searched for the large semi tractor that he remembered seeing when he had watched Dean put the gun to his head before.

He was so tired right now yet so alert.

"I can't do this Sam," Sam could faintly hear Dean speaking. "I can't live this life alone."

He had found the semi but how to get around it to Dean. He didn't want to shout out in case he surprised Dean and inadvertently made him pull the trigger. That and he feared that Bobby was out here somewhere. There was no way that Bobby would lose track of Dean so easily.

"I can't take it anymore Sam," He heard dean whisper. He was so close. If only he could find a way around the cars that were stacked up against the semi. "It's too much to bare."

_Please don't do it Dean,_ Sam pleaded internally.

"Sam?"

He was almost there. Pushing himself through a small opening near the ground, he was able to get past the cars.

"I'm not strong like you are." Dean said. He could hear Dean's voice as if he were standing right next to him, but he wasn't quite there. On the other side of the pile of cars, was a pile of scrap metal. He had to push himself onto the trunk of a wreck of a car to get over it. Only then did he see the path that Dean had taken to get to where he was. He followed it, his heart pounding as he pushed himself onward. "At least this way, if you won't come to me, I'll come to you."

Sam's breath hitched in his throat. Right in front of him was Dean standing there, his back to him, the gun raised and poised to fire the fatal shot. Doing the only thing his over caffeinated mind could think of, he took off toward Dean and tackled him from behind.

* * *

Bobby had barely stepped back into the front room, when he noticed that Dean was no longer laying on the couch.

"Crap," he muttered, setting his coffee on the table next to the couch. He rushed to the bathroom and found it empty. None of his other rooms were occupied or disturbed. That only left the front door. Rushing to the front of the house, he threw open the door and rushed outside.

Taking the steps two at a time, Bobby couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. His truck was still parked where he left it. There were no other working vehicles in the yard and he couldn't see anyone walking down the road. Where had Dean gotten off to?

The sudden sound of a gunshot broke the morning silence.

"Damn," Bobby said rushing forward. His worst fear had seemingly come true.

* * *

The shot had gone off just as he had tackled Dean. He couldn't tell if the shot had met any target. The moment he had collided with Dean and sent them both to the ground, Dean had started struggling with him, not knowing who had knocked him down. The gun had been thrown from Dean's grasp and lay just feet away.

Suddenly, Dean was able to buck him off like a bull and his rider, sending Sam forcefully into the side of the semi. Sam's head hit the hard metal with a thud and he saw stars. Momentarily dazed, it was all it took for Dean to get a good look at him and realize just who had come to stop him.

"Sam?" he said, his eyes lighting up. "Sammy?!"

His acknowledgment was enough to send Sam over the edge. Now that Dean was not putting a gun to his own head, Sam had a moment to think about his current situation and what lay ahead for him now that the one and only goal he had in mind had been accomplished. Anger rose in his heart and mind. How dare Dean do this to him; how dare he play with his emotions like this. How dare he pull a stunt like this to get him back, especially when he didn't want to be back on this hell hole of a world.

The anger overwhelmed him and with the bounding energy from his caffeine binge needing an outlet, he charged Dean. Within moments they were both on the ground again, fists and snow flying. All the pent up anger welled deep within him fueled his efforts. He could tell Dean was confused and slightly worried, but beyond that he didn't take any time to consider what Dean was feeling. It seemed to him that Dean had not thought of what he, Sam, was feeling when he had forced his hand in coming back. It was only fair.

"Sammy stop!" Dean said trying and failing to grasp Sam within his arms.

Sam landed a particularly hard punch before he found himself being pushed backward into the side of the semi, his head hitting the metal hard enough to cause stars to flash in front of him. Dazed, he just stood there for a moment.

"Sammy,' Dean said, "Let's just calm down here and talk this over."

Dean had backed away as far as he could within the constricted space so as to give Sam some space. His hands were raised non-threateningly. Sam didn't take any of it in the spirit it was offered, though. He didn't feel like saying anything about it either. The anger was ever present, but now his energy level was falling fast as the caffeine high faded away and the epic tiredness he had been running from was rapidly catching up to him.

"Sam?" Dean asked.

Sam could tell that he was confused by the sudden lack of action. He didn't say anything though. He didn't think anything he could say would be able to convey the depth of emotion he was feeling right now. That and he suddenly wasn't feeling too good.

"Sammy." Dean said taking a step toward him worriedly. "Please say something, anything."

Sam only shook his head and tried to step away from Dean, instead stumbling and tripping over his own feet. He was more than just tired. It was as if his body was shutting down. Before he could hit the ground though, Dean had somehow rushed to his side and caught him in his arms. Still stubborn as ever, he pushed Dean away and got up, somewhat awkwardly, on his own. He started to limp away from Dean; not quite understanding why his body wasn't obeying him, but didn't get very far as Bobby suddenly appeared in front of him.

He looked at Bobby then back at Dean who was still sitting on the ground where he had pushed him away.

"Sam?" Bobby said disbelievingly, his eyes wide in shock.

The last of Sam's strength faded away as he collapsed, falling to the ground, his eyes rolling back in his head. No one made a move to stop his decent, one not able to get there in time, the other still too shocked to make a move.

* * *

Dean was the first to reach Sam. His hand went straight for Sam's neck. He needed to know that Sam was still alive. Not as strong as he would have like it, but not enough to worry about, Dean found Sam's pulse. For a moment he had feared that Sam had given up once again never to return.

"He seems exhausted," Bobby commented, his stupor broken by Dean's actions.

Dena sighed and stared at Sam. Even in unconsciousness, he still looked troubled.

"Dean," Bobby started. "Is he really…Sam?"

Dean looked up and nodded.

"It looks like it," he said sadly.

The way Sam had reacted to him worried him immensely. It seemed that Sam hadn't moved past the guilt and hurt he was carrying. It had been foolish of him to hope that once Sam came back everything would be just fine, that he and Sam would be back to normal. Too much had happened to let that be.

"We better get him inside," Bobby said, seemingly looking right through him. Dean looked at him questioningly for a moment and then nodded.

Working together, they were able to get Sam inside in no time. Laying him on the couch and placing a blanket over him, Dean sat on the floor next to Sam and brushed the hair away from Sam's face.

Bobby left momentarily, returning with a cup of water. Dipping his hand in the water, Bobby sprinkled the water on Sam's face. When nothing happened, Dean breathed a small sigh of relief. Though he felt that this really was Sam, it was good to be sure after all. Holy water was an easy test to see if someone was possessed or not. But then again, Sam hadn't been a demon when he had done all those awful things. That meant that they wouldn't be able to be sure about him until he woke up.

For the moment at least, Bobby seemed satisfied as he set the cup on the end table and took a seat in his recliner. Judging from the way Bobby sat staring at him intently, something was on his mind. It wouldn't stay there for long though.

"I heard a gunshot out there," Bobby said.

Dean looked down at the floor.

"You didn't go out there and do what I think you did, did you?" Bobby asked sternly.

Dean sighed and looked up from the floor.

"I only did it to get Sam back," Dean replied.

"And just how would shooting your brains all over the place get him back?" Bobby asked frustratedly. Dean could tell that his admission was eating the other man up.

"It's a long story," Dean said.

"I have time," Bobby stated.

Dean nodded reluctantly. This was very personal to him, but Bobby did have a valid reason to know. They were practically living with him now that his dad had effectively skipped town on them. That and he was practically a second father to him. It was a tense next hour in which Dean filled Bobby in on everything he had seen and done. He didn't hold anything back including his own reactions. Truthfully, it felt good to let it all out and have someone to talk to about it all.

Bobby was silent as he took everything in and struggled to understand it.

"So you, in all your know how, decide that attempting suicide is the best way to get your kid brother to take the leap and come back to the land of the living?" Bobby finally said.

Dean tilted his head sheepishly.

"Of all the things…" Bobby muttered. "What if it hadn't worked?"

Dean didn't look him in the eye and Bobby didn't say anything more. They both knew the answer to that question.

"No wonder Sam tried to beat you into a bloody pulp." Bobby said.

"What do you mean? Dean said, not comprehending what Bobby meant by that.

"Well," Bobby started. "He obviously had his reasons for not wanting to come back."

"Stupid reasons," Dean muttered.

"Reasons that were very valid to him at least," Bobby said ignoring what his words. "And here you are acting for what it's worth like a selfish toddler, demanding that he come back or else, not caring one bit about why he is choosing not to come back."

"How can you say that?" Dean said getting angry.

Bobby raised his hands in surrender.

"I'm not saying that you had bad motives behind what you did," Bobby said. "But you have to try and see this from his point of view."

Dean thought for a moment. Bobby was right.

"How am I supposed to convince him that this is all worth it then?" Dean asked helplessly. "What if he wakes up and decides that he doesn't want to be here anymore? What if he decides to do what I almost did?"

Bobby sighed.

"We'll just have to keep a close eye on him," Bobby answered. "It won't be easy and it won't be quick, but with us here, he will just have to get better won't he?"

Dean smiled slightly. Leave it to Bobby to turn even the bleakest of situations into something that actually stood a chance of improving. He turned to Sam and ran a hand through his overgrown hair. Sam, even while sleeping, looked as if he had the whole world on his shoulders.

"We have to tell John about this," Bobby said, breaking through his thoughts.

"No!" Dean said sharply, instantly regretting the loudness of his voice and his close proximity to Sam. "No way are we telling him. He'll only come back and want to torch him."

He could tell that Bobby wasn't happy with his choice of words.

"He's your father, he has a right to know," Bobby added, "No matter what you may think of him right now."

Dean shook his head.

"He lost that right the moment he stepped back into his truck and drove off," Dean said. Surely Bobby couldn't deny that.

"Even with that," Bobby said. "There's more to him leaving than just not being able to handle it all."

Dean turned to Bobby curiously, his anger rising. Did Bobby know something more that would explain his father behavior than simple cowardice? If that was so, then that would mean that he wasn't a coward and Dean had been totally out of line in calling him one.

"The night we left Spokane, when you were still sleeping," Bobby said. "He came back from the salt and burn all flustered and anxious. He wouldn't say what had happened if anything at all, but I'm sure it had to do with Sam."

Dean got thinking. If his dad had burned Sam, then how was Sam laying on the couch next to him? The easy explanation would be that whoever had had the power to send him back had had the power to give him a new body as well. But somehow, and he didn't know how he knew, he felt that that hadn't been the case. Why would his dad act as flustered and anxious as Bobby had said, if it had been as simple as salting and burning three dead bodies? Salt and burns were old hat for them, nothing to get riled up about, even if it was someone close to them. Sad yes, suicidal maybe, but anxious?

"He acted as if something was hot on our heels," Bobby continued. "And then last night, he brought up Sam again, but never got the chance to explain."

Dean looked at the floor. He most likely was the reason why his father hadn't had the chance to voice his concerns about whatever it was he was worried about. Dean had simply taken his dad's words without waiting for any explanation and tore into his father like a hellhound claiming a soul. It was obvious the man had made more than his fair share of mistakes and still was of a mind to make more, but surely even he deserved a chance to explain himself?

"Do you have any clue where he would go?" Dean asked suddenly feeling guilty.

Bobby only shook his head.

"With the way he's been acting these past few days it seems as if I never knew the man half as well as I thought I did," Bobby said.

Dean sighed. He knew calling his dad wasn't much of an option. He probably wouldn't bother answering let alone listening to a voice mail message, that is, if he still had his phone. He knew his dad thought that cell phone were useless half the time anyway. They never seemed to have reception when you needed it the most. He was getting off topic here though.

"So all we know is that we have one misguided dad off on something about Sam," Dean said. "Not much."

Bobby took off his hat and ran a hand through his graying hair.

"Call it a gut feeling," Bobby said. "But I think John's suicidal as well."

"Great," Dean said throwing his hands into the air.

This just kept getting better and better. He had thought that maybe things would be able to settle down finally, that his dad would go off and live his own life and that he and Sam would be able to fix things between themselves and live their own life. Simple right? Now he was facing two possibly suicidal family members who were both misguided souls running on false assumptions. His hands were already full enough with Sam and all his problems. Now he had been burdened with his father's issues.

Why couldn't anything be easy in his life? Why was he expected to be the sane one through thick and thin; to take whatever the fates decided to throw at him without complaint? If there was a God out there, he sure had a sick sense of humor.

How had things come to this point? When he had revealed everything that had gone on between him and Sam he had expected things to only get better from there. He had not planned on Bobby revealing an equally huge bomb on him. Everything that Bobby had said had torn apart the lines that had been drawn in the sand between him and his dad. Things weren't so black and white any more. His father wasn't so wrong and he wasn't as justified in his treatment of his father as he had thought.

Things weren't as they seemed. He should have learned that after the weeks of torture they had been through, but after the demon had been dealt with, he had let his guard down and thought that the worst of it all was over. How wrong he had been.

"What should I do?" Dean asked Bobby.

"What should _you_ do?" Bobby asked leaning forward in his recliner. "You think you're alone in this? What am I?"

Dean tilted his head and shook it.

"I can't ask you to-"

"You're not asking," Bobby interrupted. "I'm insisting."

Dean looked at the floor. Though he didn't want to drag Bobby deeper into this whole mess, he had to admit that he was having a hard time as it was keeping himself together let alone thinking about trying to put back together two other broken people. He would never tell anyone else that though.

"I guess if you're insisting, then I can't refuse," Dean said in response.

It was amazing what could happen in just a few weeks; how in such a short time, people could be destroyed so easily and families torn apart ruthlessly. It was also amazing how long it could take to fix something that had happened over such a short period of time. It was funny how things worked out that way. Dean thought of the challenges ahead. It was an uphill battle, but at least he had Sam at his side.

That was all that mattered.

All that Sam had seen, the future that he had missed out on, it was nothing to him. Sure he could have been happy had things turned out that way. But he wouldn't trade Sam in for the world, even to have his mother back. He was happy with the way they were. Their experiences had made him into the person he was today and he was grateful for that. If only Sam had known that from the beginning then maybe he wouldn't have been so vulnerable; maybe the demon wouldn't have been able to find a way to get under Sam's skin and play with his mind so easily. If only Sam had known. Dean didn't need his mother, or the perfect apple pie life Sam had seen to be happy.

All he needed was Sam.

* * *

**And there you have it. **

**Please let me know what you thought about it! I've loved hearing from all of you and I can't thank you enough for caring enough to leave your reviews. They mean a lot to me and keep me writing. But review or not, thanks for just reading my story in the first place. Thanks so much for all of your support!!! As for the sequel, as soon as I get far enough ahead in my writing i'll start posting. Right now I only have the vaguest of outlines about where this story will go from here, so if you have any suggestions or requests about anything you would like to have happen, I would be more than willing to hear you out.**

**Hope you all are having a wonderful start to the new year! Thanks again for everything!**


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